Back In Time
by Blackpaladin37
Summary: PREQUEL to Heart of Stone, Eyes of Frost. The story of Kallian Tabris, bringing you a decade back to the moments she had with Leliana and our old friends in DAO. Embittered by her harsh upbringing in the Alienage, Kallian is no friend of shems. Things turn from bad to worse when she loses everything she knows overnight. Can she overcome her prejudice and the bonds of tradition?
1. PROLOGUE

**PROLOGUE:**

The icy wind swept the grounds mercilessly, driving the people of Haven into their homes. A violent force blew the rain, creating waves of it rippling across the frigid air. The stems of flowers that had barely blossomed bent in submission under its tyranny and wrath. Misty clouds dominated the sky, washing it white with grief. A grief buried under ice and stone, resisting the inevitable pull and calling of time. Rain hammered on the glass of windows and dripped down silently as if in resignation. The last of the workers ran into the Chantry to escape the weather.

But there was one lone figure up on the ramparts, cloak billowing and whipping in the wind. None would have seen her face past the blur of rain. However, anyone approaching would feel the glacial blizzard surrounding her before they even got close. Commonfolk would call her mad, or whisper that she was secretly a mage, able to ward herself against the weather. Others would say she was waiting for something… the question was: for what?

Because indeed, a considerable number of them had noticed the spymaster standing in the exact same position from time to time, staring out at nothing in particular. And always when it rained. Now there she stood again, but this storm should have been enough for her to leave her musings and hurry indoors- she didn't.

"Sister Nightingale, we have sighted the Herald and the others."

An agent rushed up the steps to her, panting and drenched with rain. Inwardly, he was filled with utter incredulity and curiosity as to why his boss would do this to herself. As expected, she did not respond.

"Sister Nightingale?" he shouted over the wind.

This time, she nodded. "I heard you the first time," she said calmly.

"And… as promised, Mother Giselle is on her way to inform us-"

"I know."

Her agent stood there awkwardly, staring at her back. The spymaster finally turned her hooded face to him- just enough for him to meet her ice cold gaze. He recognized the dismissal but stood his ground.

"But there is also someone else with her, as scouts have reported- a young assistant who we barely know anything about."

At this, a furrow appeared between her brows. This was strange news- an assistant to the Mother would usually be a member of the Chantry. It would be a simple matter of going through the records and questioning the brothers and sisters who knew the Revered Mother. She didn't understand where the difficulty lay- much less why her agent would disturb her for something like this. Leliana turned her face to the wind again, impatient to return to solitude.

"And why is this?" she demanded.

"She appears to be new here- a surgeon, actually. There are whispers that she appeared suddenly in the Hinterlands and convinced the Mother to take her as an assistant."

The spymaster frowned. This was certainly strange news, if not suspicious. But there were other more pressing matters at hand. The woman nodded, already losing interest.

"There must be something you missed," she said shortly. "Try again."

Her agent hesitated but bowed. "As you wish, my lady."

He left her to the elements again, standing as straight as a rod in the wind, which was now significantly gentler. But the rain was still coming down to hit her cheeks with emphatic splashes. It ran down her face like tears, lingering on the edges of her jaw before dripping to the ground. The fine sheets of rainwater were all across the land, showering the snow-capped mountains and traversing the deep valleys.

She subconsciously raised a hand to the two gifts hanging around her neck, fingering the rim of the symbol and the sharp outline of the sword.

Leliana watched for the next few hours as the storm settled and the downpour dwindled to harmless spitting. The wind calmed down to a chilly breeze. And finally, the woman turned to leave the walkway and entered the warmth of the castle. She stepped in and felt the fire of the torch against her skin. But inside, she was still cold.

The spymaster took off her dripping cloak and set it aside. She walked down the stairs to her chambers, changing out of her armour to more comfortable clothes. And she sat down at the round table near her window, watching the droplets drip down the glass. Nothing could be seen through the blur of water. An unexpected stab of pain struck her chest at the sight and she breathed in deeply. Leliana bit her lip and stood up, trying to calm herself down. After a while it settled- just like the storm.

She walked over to one of the drawers- the one she always locked. With the key, Leliana unlocked it and slipped the scroll out. For a moment, she gazed at it… wondering if she should lock it away again. But then she decided against it and brought it back to the table.

Leliana unrolled it slowly, her eyes scanning the black strokes of ink down the length of the parchment.

 _The faded light passes through weeping clouds,_

 _Memories as cold as the hollow sounds_

 _of the rain falling on the edge of the window sill,_

 _imprison my heart like the embrace of death…_

She closed her eyes, the words taking her years back… back in time to the memories of better days past. To when the colours of a new beginning seeped into the canvas of the painting that was her life.

Back to the story of a love so deep it moved the gods to action, preserving it beyond death and time.


	2. Chapter 1: Living A Lie

**CHAPTER 1: Living A Lie**

It was a dimly lit room with no furniture or any decorations, for that matter. Even the table that had been her sole companion in the basement had been taken away- sold, when the harshest of winters hit them that year. The floor was dusty, but she knew her father would no longer ask her to sweep it clean. In fact, he would not be asking her for anything any more.

Normally she would use the task as an excuse to come downstairs again to this place. A place that held so many memories she cherished. Faint scuff marks were scattered around on the ground- the only visible reminders of how she regularly crossed blades with her mother. Kallian flipped the blade over in her hand. Her fingers traced the elvish markings on its surface: _Inethas_. Fang.

The polished metal glinted in what little light there was in the room, reflecting the outline of a pale face. Dark eyes stared back, haunting and almost sinister in the shadows beneath brooding brows. Hair flowed down past her shoulders in elegant waves, styled to perfection. Fine powder smoothed out the skin. Kallian glared at the image in disgust and flung the dagger at the wall, not even bothering to hang the target up. She stood there watching the handle vibrate wildly. The action almost calmed her, as if the oscillations reminded her that it was still possible to live. To live without feeling, because the world went on regardless. She lived and she breathed. Wasn't that enough?

"Kallian?" called a muffled voice from the level above.

The elf sighed and wrenched the dagger free, sheathing it. She left the room and walked upstairs. Shianni was waiting for her when she got there, hands on her hips.

"Were you down there again?" she asked, tutting.

"Just for a minute," replied Kallian, smoothing out the wedding dress to hide the weapon.

Her cousin regarded her sympathetically before taking her arm. "Come on," she said, pulling her to the door. "Soris is waiting outside."

Shianni pushed open the door for her and Kallian stepped out onto the path. The faint smell of waste ridden water irritated her, but not to an unbearable extent. Years of living in this place had trained her senses to ignore this. Instead, she turned her gaze to the two people standing there. Soris grinned at her and waved her over.

Kallian drew near and tried not to step on the hem of her dress.

"Finally!" he said. "You look great, Kallian. What happened to you?"

Shianni made a disapproving noise. "What are you implying, Soris? She's always been this way."

"Just kidding," said her cheeky cousin. "Of course you always look fabulous."

Kallian wasn't really sure if this was sarcastic or not.

"And I bet someone else here will appreciate it- this is Nelaros, your betrothed," said Soris, gesturing at the elf next to him.

Kallian forced her lips into a smile at the smooth faced youth. Shianni wasn't lying. He _was_ handsome with his sandy hair and sculpted features. But they did nothing to stir any emotion in her. He held out a hand. "So we finally meet. It is a great pleasure to meet you," he said, giving her a charming smile.

She raised an eyebrow. _Good manners at least_ , she thought grudgingly.

"The pleasure is mine," she replied, albeit without enthusiasm. _There, father. You would approve of this I hope._

Nelaros' smile stretched further. He offered her an arm and she hesitated before taking it. Soris gave her a wink as Nelaros took her on a brief walk through the streets.

"I have to say," he said, voice as smooth as his face. "I was nervous before arriving here. And now… let's just say I'm even more nervous to have met you in person."

"And why is that?"

Nelaros hesitated before answering. "You are… pleasing to the eye," he said, giving her a quick look of admiration. She wasn't sucked in by this so easily.

 _Wonder how many girls you've said that to._

"Trust me," she said wryly. "It's the make-up. And the hours my cousin spent trying to perfect my hair."

Kallian grimaced as she remembered waking up to see Shianni holding up her wedding dress. She had wanted to go straight back to bed.

Nelaros laughed. "Even so, I'm sure make up doesn't make everybody pretty," he said, blushing slightly. He continued to lead the conversation, talking about insignificant matters that she tried to give reasonable answers to. Kallian had to confess that he was charming and relatively easy to converse with, if a little long winded. But she had to give him points for the impeccable manners and flattering speech.

After a while, the small talk was beginning to try her patience and she fought down a yawn.

"I admit, I did have my doubts," he continued. "And I've thought about many things during the travel here. But… I just hope that I'll be a good husband for you."

Kallian stopped and studied him. _Well… that was nice. But then again,_ she thought wearily. _He probably thinks I'm some fragile girl who needs his protection. Maker's breath…_

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"I don't know what the definition of a _good_ husband is," she said. "But… I think you'll be alright."

"Well," said the other elf, shoulders relaxing. "That makes me feel better. I'd hoped I would make a pleasing first impression."

 _Is that modesty, or is he being serious?_ "You don't need to worry about that. My cousin Shianni was gushing about you nonstop," she said. "And my father mentioned you were a smith. Tell me about that."

The elf was predictably eager to discuss his work, explaining some of the methods he used, the new materials he was trialling out and so on. Now this was more like it- she listened more attentively.

"So... Red Steel would have better armour penetration than Veridium."

"Yes," said Nelaros, nodding. "But when choosing swords there's something equally as important."

"The harmonic balance. It prevents the transmission of shock down to the wielder's hand. Am I correct?"

The male elf blinked. "You are indeed." Then he smiled widely. "I had no idea you were so interested in weapons."

They were near the vhenadahl now, and she frowned as a pair of elves smiled at her. She didn't know them, but the woman waved to her.

Nelaros followed her gaze and stopped. "It seems they want to talk to you… I won't take more of your time. We'll have plenty later, I suppose. You should spend it with others before… before we take our vows," he said with a quick smile.

Kallian nodded uncertainly, her attention already fragmented.

She walked over to the couple, wondering who they were. At the same time, she considered her betrothed seriously. The idea of marriage was beginning to feel like less of a dooming fate. Nelaros was nice enough and if he didn't treat her like a piece of pottery on the verge of shattering... it would have to be sufficient.

It was her father's expectation for Kallian to settle down at this age. Nelaros was the 'perfect' match for her- the son of a respected family, an accomplished smith, handsome and well mannered. The words had stuck in her throat at the suggestion- she could neither accept nor refuse. Her father had taken that for acceptance.

Furthermore, he was convinced that the union would tame the fiery nature in his daughter and squash that "unwomanly" gravitation toward violence.

"Well, it's the lucky bride herself! Hello, dear," said the woman when she arrived.

Her husband tutted. "Now, now, love. She probably doesn't remember us."

The woman gave her an apologetic look. "Oh! Of course. I'm Dilwyn, and this is Gethon. We were friends of your mother's. We haven't seen much of you since she…well…"

Kallian struggled to maintain a neutral expression. She angled her head, trying to remember. "Father never mentioned you."

Gethon grimaced. "No, he wouldn't, I suppose."

 _What is that supposed to mean?_

"Adaia was beautiful and full of life," said Dilwyn, smiling. "And… a bit wild."

Her husband looked at Kallian sympathetically. "She wanted you more than anything. It's sad to see she never got to see you all grown up."

Dilwyn nodded. "We just wanted to see you today, and express our good wishes."

Kallian felt a familiar pang in the centre of her chest. She thought talking about her mother would be easy for her now, after so much time. To hear her name again caused a host of emotions and memories to surge up in her. She swallowed, nodding.

"Any friend of my mother's is a friend of mine."

"We're glad to have seen you, dear. Seeing you happy would be like seeing Adaia happy. You look so much like her… you have her eyes and her smile."

Gethon pulled something from his belt. "We've…saved a bit of money for this day. We'd like you to have it. To help you start your new life."

Kallian nearly choked. She couldn't breathe.

"I… I can't accept this."

"Please, take it. It's the least we can do for Adaia. To see you well supported would mean the world to us."

"Thank you...thank you for this."

"You are very welcome, child. Very welcome.," Dilwyn said, eyes soft.

"We hope you have a wonderful life with your husband. Maker bless you," said Gethon before walking away with his wife.

Kallian stood there for a while, staring at the pouch of coins in her hands. Life in the squalid conditions of the Alienage was a struggle every day. In the hovels crammed together, flanking the streets slick with mud, reeking of stale water and dung… there wasn't one family that didn't face the challenge of having to scrape together a few pennies to feed mouths. And this couple had saved these hard-earned coins… for _her_.

Suddenly the marriage meant more than a simple union between two strangers- it was a privilege. One of the few things in this forsaken place that was celebrated with such excitement and preparation.

Kallian walked along the streets, subdued. It was only until Soris tapped her on the shoulder that she came back to reality.

"Woa," her cousin said. "You alright? You look like you've been to the Fade and back."

Kallian shook her head. "No, I just… met some people who knew my mother."

The cheeky grin slipped off his face. "Your mother?" he asked, frowning.

She held up the pouch. "They gifted this to me."

Soris looked at it quietly before nodding seriously. "Must have been good friends, then."

Kallian nodded slowly. "Sounded like they knew her well."

He worked the muscles of his face, trying to drag his lips up into a smile for her. "Well, I'm happy for you cousin. You'll be needing this."

Again, Kallian nodded absent mindedly.

"But that aside, how was your little walk with your betrothed?" he asked with a sly grin.

"He's nice."

"That's _it_?" said Soris incredulously. "Geez, what does it take to impress you?"

"Someone who has _substance_ ," said a teasing voice behind them.

Kallian turned to her red haired cousin.

"Maker! When did _you_ get here?" said Soris, jumping.

Shianni ignored him. "But really, Kallian. You are so lucky! I wish _I_ could have a husband like him."

"That's easy for you to say… I've known him for what, a few minutes?"

Soris laughed. "True, but that's the point- you'll get to know him in _time_."

"That's the part I don't like."

"Ah, you think too much. Just go with the flow. Besides, he seemed pretty into you. What's the problem?"

"The problem," said Shianni. "Is that she doesn't give her heart away to just anybody."

"Yeah, I figured," snorted Soris. "Wait…" he said, eyes widening. He leaned in close, lowering his voice. "You don't happen to have a… lover, do you?"

Kallian shook her head. _Not since a long time ago…_

"Well, what is it then?"

Shianni rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Come on, Soris. We've already been through this." She gave him a meaningful look.

He caught the expression and opened his mouth. " _Ohhh_ , right. That," he said awkwardly. "But come on, at least he's attractive. That will make it more bearable."

Kallian laughed humourlessly. "It's not that simple."

"Leave her alone," said Shianni, tutting. "It's hard enough for her now as it is."

Soris shrugged. "Alright… but hey, I was just curious." He held up his hands in surrender when the two of them glared at him. "Look, after this we'll drink away the marriage blues. What do you say to that?"

Kallian couldn't help it. She smirked. "Fine. But you're paying."

Her cousin grinned back. "That was my plan all along."

The three of them laughed and chatted as they always did. It suddenly occurred to her that it would be the last time they would be talking like this, together. She would be leaving for Highever and begin her life as a dutiful wife. But for the moment, she found herself forgetting about the wedding as they bantered. It was just her, Shianni and Soris enjoying another day, out in the sun.

"By the way…" she said to her cousins uncomfortably. "Just... don't mention what we were talking about to my father, alright?"

It was Shianni's turn to look at her incredulously. "Are you crazy? Better you tell him than us. Besides, it won't matter anyway… you're still getting married, right?"

Kallian nodded. "Yeah… I suppose I am."

Then the three stopped in their tracks abruptly. A group of shems stood smiling nastily on the path up ahead. The tallest one was garbed in a rich doublet, smooth pants and polished leather boots that were probably worth ten times more than her house. He was grappling with Nola, one of the bridesmaids.

This sort of display wasn't uncommon in the Alienage, and they were distasteful methods of demonstrating dominance typical of shems. But they had rarely been done in the case of an important event- least of all a wedding. Kallian stiffened, her blood hot with anger. Seeing the man grope Nola like that brought back memories of something painfully similar from years ago…

The girl made desperate noises of struggle and pulled herself away from his grip.

"Let go of me! Stop, please!"

The human gave the group of elves a look of disdain. "It's a _party_ , isn't it?" He glanced at his two other companions and smiled. "Grab a whore and have a good time!" he said, laughing.

 _I'll show you what a good time looks like you bastard,_ she thought, but Shianni seemed to know and put a hand on her arm.

"Savour the hunt, boys," drawled the man. "Take this little elven wench here…" he said, and Kallian felt her insides freeze as he gestured at Shianni. "So young and _vulnerable_."

Before she could even take a step forward, her cousin eyed him disgustedly. "Touch me and I'll gut you, you pig!"

A by-stander held up both hands in an attempt to pacify them. "Please, my lords! We're celebrating weddings here!"

The shem leader quickly approached the elf in two long steps. "Silence, worm!" he snarled, striking his face with a heavy hand.

There were startled cries from the group as the girls watched in horror. Kallian held shaking fists by her sides. Soris noticed her expression and the clenched fists. He sidled over to her.

"I know what you're thinking," he whispered. "But maybe we shouldn't get involved."

Kallian didn't look at him, keeping a seething gaze on the shem. "I can't let them abuse us like this," she hissed in a low voice.

"Fine. But let's try to be diplomatic, shall we?"

The shem was turning away from the fallen elf now, walking towards Kallian.

"Ah, what's this? Another lovely one come to keep me company?"

Kallian's fingers closed around the hilt of her dagger hidden at her hip. She gave him a cold smile. "We both know that's not going to happen. Or maybe you don't know what a wedding dress looks like? I'm not surprised… your brain must be smaller than a rat's."

"Never mind," muttered Soris.

"Hah!" scoffed the noble. "Do you have _any_ idea who I am?" he said, taking a step forward menacingly.

Soris shook his head desperately at something past her and Kallian frowned. She turned her gaze to the right and glimpsed a blur of white as Shianni hurled a pot at the man's head. It shattered and the shem's head bled like a fountain. He collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

Another shem hurried to his side and gaped at them. "Are you insane? This is Vaughn Urien, the Arl of Denerim's son!"

 _Shit._

"W-what?" said Shianni, staggering backwards. She covered her face with her hands. "Oh, Maker!"

"Then his _father_ should have taught him some manners," said Kallian, eyes flashing.

The remaining human glared at her. "You've got a lot of nerve, knife ears! This'll go badly for you!" And with that, the two heaved Vaughn onto their shoulders and left.

The crowd of elves dispersed, tutting and sighing. A deep sense of foreboding churned in Kallian as she watched them go.

Shianni shook her head as she turned to her cousins. "Oh, I _really_ messed up this time," she groaned.

"Once again… your actions never fail to surprise me," said Kallian dryly.

"It'll be alright," said Soris, though he looked uncertain. "He won't tell anyone an elven woman took him down."

"I… I hope so," said Shianni weakly. "I should get cleaned up."

"I'll come with you," offered Kallian, but her cousin shook her head.

"No, you should go get ready for the wedding. I'll join you soon."

Kallian sighed, seeing her cousin's slumped shoulders as she walked away.

"Just what the hell were they doing here?" she growled, stalking off to the central square. Soris followed her, shaking his head.

"Don't let your father catch you doing that," he said.

"What?"

"You know, walking like that. Marching."

Kallian gave him a withering look. "Do you think I care about that right now?"

"Okay, you're right." Her cousin sighed. "But what can we do? We've always known they would brew up something here sometime in the future."

"But at a _wedding_? They really have to stoop down that low?"

Soris' face hardened . "I have to agree with you on that… it seems we're dealing with shems that don't care, one way or another." Then he slid to a stop.

Kallian glanced back at him quizzically.

"Uh… don't look just now, but we have another problem."

"What _now_?"

Soris' eyes narrowed. "Another human just walked in. Could be one of Vaughn's… or just a random troublemaker."

Kallian didn't waste time following his advice. She turned her gaze to a tall figure behind the trunk of the Vhenadahl. He was armoured with a heavy breastplate, gauntlets and a long sword strapped to his back. His skin was dark, long black hair tied back into a warrior's tail and his face was disturbingly composed- he had practised this for years. The shem scanned the area and caught her looking. Kallian jumped reflexively, as if burned with fire. She quickly averted her eyes and strode away.

The crowd there was larger now, and she felt herself stiffen from nervousness. Soris walked beside her, patting her shoulder.

"If it's any comfort," he said, voice low. "I'm as anxious as you, cousin."

Kallian nodded, swallowing.

Before she could get to the crowd, however, she heard Valendrian call out to her.

"Ah! Kallian, my child. I just wanted to introduce you to our guest here."

The elf stopped, turning to meet the weathered face of the Elder. He laid a hand on her upper back, guiding her towards- to her shock- the Rivaini human. She exchanged a bewildered glance with Soris but had no choice in the matter. When they reached the shem, he turned those unsettling dark eyes on her. She met them with a guarded, simmering gaze of her own. After the run in with Vaughn, the sight of another human made her sick.

"This is Duncan, head of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden."

"Pleased to meet you," said the Warden, his voice mild and polite. He stretched out a hand but the elf didn't take it.

"You'll excuse me, Warden," said Kallian stiffly. "We've just had… an unpleasant encounter with one of your kind. I can't say your presence is welcome to me."

To her surprise, the hint of a smile crossed his lips.

Valendrian gave her a look of disapproval. "Kallian, the Grey Wardens are deserving of respect, no matter who wears their crest."

Duncan held up a hand. "It is quite alright, my friend. You were not exaggerating when you told me of her fiery temper. I can see it in her eyes."

The Elder sighed. "Yes, well… she can be a difficult student to control."

Kallian rolled her eyes at her tutor. "Only when you make me read fragmented elvish."

Valendrian shook his head. "We can only do the best with the resources we have."

"Yes, I know… But tell me," she said, turning to the Warden. She crossed her arms and regarded him challengingly. "Why are you here?"

She ignored the Elder's sigh of exasperation.

At this question, Duncan's composed face slipped into grim lines. "The worst has happened," he said in a heavy tone. "A Blight has begun."

Kallian's brows climbed in surprise. "A _Blight_?"

She had only read about this in her books and the stories her father retold at the dinner table. Swarms of armies, Darkspawn teeming like ants across the land… wiping out villages, killing them. This couldn't be _the_ Blight. The Blight that everyone feared.

Duncan nodded. "King Cailan summons the Grey Wardens to Ostagar to fight the Darkspawn horde alongside his armies."

 _Maker…_

"Yes… I had heard the news. Still, this is an awkward time. There is to be a wedding… two, in fact," said the Elder.

"So I see," said the Warden. "By all means, attend to your ceremonies. My concerns can wait, for now."

Valendrian nodded, turning to Kallian. "Child, I want you to treat Duncan as a guest," he said, giving her a warning look. "And, quickly now, take your place." He left to join the crowd.

Kallian gave the Warden a stiff nod and followed him to the wooden platform. As she did, Shianni winked at her and smiled.

"You look gorgeous in that dress, cousin."

"Urgh," said Kallian, grimacing. "This better be the last time I'm wearing one."

As she took her position beside Nelaros, she saw her father's proud, smiling face in the crowd. She tried to return it but failed.

"Are you ready?" asked her groom, giving her an encouraging smile.

His expression worsened the guilt squirming in her- the guilt that despite any ring or declaration, she was going to be living a lie.

But she nodded. "Ready."

"Looks like Valendrian and the Revered Mother are here. Time to face the music," said Soris.

The Elder stepped forward to face everyone gathered, walking along the edge of the platform.

"Friends and family," he started, deep voice ringing in the air. "Today we celebrate not only this joining, but also the bonding of kin and kind …"

The rest of his speech passed through her ears, scattered and disjointed as Kallian felt the reality of what was happening.

 _This is it,_ she thought. _It's really happening. I'm going to be married… leaving father, Shianni and Soris and Denerim… to live with someone I don't even know._

She spotted her father again, giving her an approving nod. She had to do it. She had to do her duty.

"In the name of the Maker, who brought us this world, and in whose name we say the Chant of Light, I-"

Kallian was jolted out of her reverie at the sound of heavy footsteps. What she lifted her head to see made sweat break out on her forehead.

"M-milord," stammered the Mother. "This is an unexpected surprise."

Vaughn strode purposely up the steps with a group of armed soldiers in tow.

 _Bloody hell… you can't be serious._

"Sorry to interrupt, Mother. I'm…" he laughed harshly. "I'm having a party, and we're _dreadfully_ short of female guests."

The Mother shook her head angrily. "Milord! This is a _wedding_!"

Vaughn laughed again. "If you want to dress up your pets and have tea parties, that's _your_ business, not mine. And don't pretend this is a _proper_ wedding."

He turned to place his filthy hand on Kallian's shoulder. She wanted to smack it away.

" _Now_ …" he said, smiling evilly. "We're here for a good time, aren't we boys? Let's take that one, and the one in the tight dress. And where's the _bitch_ who bottled me?"

Kallian's fingers curled into tight fists. _No. Not Shianni you mongrel._

Her cousin struggled and pulled away from one of the shems. "Don't touch me you son of a-"

"Oh! I'll enjoy taming _her_!" said Vaughn, laughing again. "And… the pretty bride," he added, giving her a lustful glance.

Kallian felt her gut twist horribly. She wanted to vomit.

Nelaros turned to her, determination in his eyes. "Don't worry, I won't let them take you."

"I can't let him take Shianni," she hissed.

"Ah yes, such a well formed little thing," the noble drawled, turning to Kallian.

"Get away from her, you villain!" shouted Nelaros as Vaughn drew near.

"That's quite enough. We don't want any further… unpleasantness."

Kallian thought about taking her dagger out. She would wipe that smirk off his disgusting face.

"If you lay one finger on me," she said through gritted teeth. "I'll skin you alive."

"Oh, this one has spirit," he said. Then the shem's eyes hardened and he raised a hand to strike her. His expression switched to surprise when she dodged it and smacked his arm down at the bone.

"Argh!" he growled, doubling over.

Kallian punched him in the face and tried to kick him, but the dress was a limiting factor. She felt hands grab her roughly and she snapped her head back. One pair of hands fell away and she heard a pained groan. The elf tried to twist out of their grasp…

And then, the last thing she saw was a gloved hand coming full speed at her face.

Everything went black.


	3. Chapter 2: Eyes of the Dead

**CHAPTER 2: Eyes of the Dead**

"Maker keep us, Maker protect us, Maker keep us, Maker protect us…"

Kallian peeled her eyes open, groaning. A throbbing headache pounded at her temples, throwing her thoughts into disarray. Her right cheek was also so bruised it hurt down to the bone. She lay there with her eyes closed, trying to will the pain away. And the constant praying was grating on her nerves.

"Will you just stop?" she growled at the girl. She did. " _Thank you_ ," Kallian said irritably. She uncurled from her foetal position and got up, groaning again as the headache worsened.

God, she felt beaten and bruised all over.

"Oh, thank the Maker you've come to. We were so worried," said a voice.

Shianni was kneeling in front of her with two others.

She looked around with bleary eyes: the five of them were contained in a small, cold chamber with hardly any light.

"Where's that blasted shem?" growled Kallian, wincing as the bruise on her cheek throbbed. "I'm going to kill him."

Her cousin gave her a sad smile. "Glad you've still got some fight left in you."

"They locked us in here to wait until that… _bastard_ is ready for us," explained Valora, shaking her head.

Kallian breathed out through pursed lips, thinking. Out of them all, she was the only one who could fight. Moreover, they would most likely come with armed men. Things were not looking good.

She pulled out the dagger hidden at her side.

"You brought _that_ with you?" asked her cousin, eyes widening.

"Yes," Kallian said distractedly. Would it be of any use in this situation? "If there aren't too many guards, I could kill them."

Valora looked doubtful. "There's not much chance of that… I mean, remember the group Vaughn had with him?"

Nola chose that time to start praying again.

"Maker keep us, Maker protect us…" she chanted desperately.

"Oh great. Now this again," said Shianni exasperatedly.

"Look," said Elonna, her expression pained. "We'll… do what they want, go home, and try to forget this ever happened."

"She's right," agreed Valora reluctantly. "It'll be worse if we resist."

"It'll be worse if we don't!" snapped Shianni.

"Someone's coming!"

Kallian took her stance, cursing as the wedding dress stretched uncomfortably.

"If you see an opportunity, take it," she hissed to them.

Everyone nodded dubiously, except for Nola who was still praying on the ground.

Armoured footsteps made contact with stone and the door was flung open. As soon as they entered, Kallian's heart sank. There were too many. Even if she threw her dagger at one and killed him… what then? She would be facing four men armed with swords.

"Hello wenches," the leader said in a slippery voice. He reminded her of a snake. "We're your escorts to Lord Vaughan's little party."

"Stay away from us!" shouted Nola, standing up in defiance.

Kallian flinched as blood splattered onto her face and dress. Elonna dropped to her knees and stared at the rip in Nola's body.

"You… you killed her!" she said disbelievingly.

"That's what happens when you try teaching whores some respect," slithered the man. His dry lips were smiling but his eyes were cold. "Right," he said, turning to the four other shems. "You take that flower cowering in the corner over there. Horace and I'll take the homely bride and the drunk. You two, bind the last one. She's the scrapper."

 _No,_ she thought desperately as they dragged her cousin, Valora and Elonna out of the room. She made to follow them but two shems barred the way. Kallian eyed the wicked blades on their backs warily.

"Don't worry," said the one with the thick moustache. "We'll be perfect gentlemen."

Kallian scowled- she only had two options. If she threw her blade fast enough, she could take it out and kill the other. Or, she could try dodging their attacks… which seemed quite hopeless at the moment.

"Uh… hello?"

The shems turned around to face the newcomer.

 _Soris?_

"Oh ho!" laughed Moustache. "A little elfling with a stolen sword!"

Her cousin stood there awkwardly with the weapon. Kallian's eyes glinted as she gazed at the long sword. Soris took one step forward and slid it towards her across the floor. She lunged for it and trained the tip on the shems. It was heavier than the wooden swords she practised with, but she would adjust.

"Na din'an sahlin!" she snarled.

"Oh, sod," said the shem, drawing his own sword and shield.

Kallian didn't waste time- she slashed his throat. She shivered as the blade met cartilage and bone. Blood arced through the air like a fountain and she stepped back.

To the left she saw Soris punching the shem's face. He yelped and ducked as the sword nearly lopped his head off. Kallian tried not to think about the body on the floor and cut down on the soldier. He raised his shield at the last moment and slashed at her.

The elf spun away and stumbled as she stepped on the hem of her dress. He took that gap to attempt a stab but Soris pulled at him from behind. Kallian regained her balance and drove her blade into his gut. The tip emerged at the other side.

He crashed to the floor, red liquid pooling under him.

The man was dead.

Now that it was over, she looked down at her hands. The enormity of what she had done was starting to dawn on her, numbness ebbing away. Her hands were slick with blood and shaking violently.

"Maker," breathed Soris, similarly affected.

The two of them stood panting, staring at the three corpses. Nola and the two soldiers.

Kallian looked down at the blood on her dress. It was now completely unrecognizable.

Then Soris broke the silence. "Are you… alright? Th-they didn't hurt you, did they?"

She shook her head. "No. But there's no time to lose," she said briskly. "We need to get to the others. Can you get another weapon?"

"That Grey Warden gave Nelaros and I his sword and crossbow. But that's all we have."

Kallian's head snapped up. "What? _Nelaros_ is here?"

 _This is going to get messy…_

"Yes! He's the reason why we're here. He lost it on those who wanted to hope for the best. I… didn't know what to do," said Soris, shoulders slumping.

"Thanks for coming," she said, throat constricting. Then she took in a deep breath. "Now let's find some weapons and get going."

"Nelaros is waiting down at the end of the hall. Let's figure this out with him."

Kallian nodded and bent down next to the soldier, disassembling the armour. She cursed as her shaking fingers fumbled with it.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"… stripping him?"

"…"

She pulled the last piece off him and gave Soris a look.

"Oh, right," he said, turning his back on her.

The chainmail didn't fit her perfectly, but the human wasn't as tall as the others and the design allowed it to be worn loosely. She looked down at her wedding dress for the last time, bloodied and torn. It was probably the most expensive thing she would ever own.

"Right, let's go."

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"See, I told you there'd be more. Elves run in packs, like _rodents_."

Kallian stood there, staring at Nelaros' body.

"Should we keep the knife-eared bitch alive?" said the other guard.

"Let's teach th-"

Kallian slammed into him full force, smashing his chin with the rim of her shield. There was a sickening crack as the jaw broke. The man howled in pain and doubled over. There was a metallic sliding sound as her blade cut through the armour into his chest. He died instantly.

She turned to see Soris overwhelmed by the other two and hurried to join him. With a feral growl, she struck one with the pommel of her sword. He staggered as the helm vibrated, dazed. She pierced the chest and slid the blade between his ribs. He screamed in pain and went down.

Together, she and her cousin dispatched of the rest with grim determination. When they were done, bodies lay everywhere, blood staining the wood and rugs.

She didn't even give them a second glance as she turned to the elf on the floor. His grey eyes stared up at the ceiling, empty.

Her cousin placed a hand uncertainly on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Kallian…"

The elf nodded slowly. She never imagined it would come to this. They had known each other for less than a day… and he had given his life for her. She bent down to lower the eyelids.

Kallian glanced down again at her betrothed.

 _Thank you, Nelaros. And… I'm so sorry…_

The two sprinted through the corridors, past countless rooms as they tried to navigate their way through the maze like castle. Again and again, she cut through the guards- she was so numb now that it just felt like she was cutting meat. Though how they managed to stay alive was beyond her. Maybe it was the adrenaline rush… or maybe it was the terrifying thought that one slip up could mean they would never wake again.

Kallian wrenched her blade free from the man's abdomen and wiped it on the long rug on the wooden floor. Soris stood there, sweeping his eyes over the pile of dead men. He walked over to the door on the right wall.

"This must be it. I hope that elf was right," he said, gripping the handle. He pushed it open.

Her whole body tensed with loathing as she saw that sneering face. But more importantly… a shem was standing over Shianni.

He glanced over at her in surprise and stood, pulling up his trousers. A strange numbness enveloped her as she stared at the scene. Her cousin lay whimpering on the ground, face bruised and bloodied beyond recognition. Her clothes were viciously torn and dirtied. Drops of blood spotted the floor.

Vaughan's green eyes looked her up and down and she glimpsed a flicker of fear as he took in the blood on her form. But then he quickly recovered.

"My, my. What have we here?"

"Don't worry," said his snivelling companion. "We'll make short work of these two."

" _Quiet,_ you idiot!" Vaughan snarled. "They're covered with enough blood to fill a tub! What do you think that means?"

Kallian only half listened as she fixed emotionless eyes on the shem. A brief look of uncertainty crossed his face.

She paused as images flicked past in her mind. Kallian had never had such violent thoughts before. Oh, she had imagined stabbing the guts of humans numerous times, as did most city elves. But today… today she longed to snap a shem's neck with her bare hands, listen to the crack of their dense skulls... and the things she would do to their faces...

These notions should have been disturbing, dishonourable. But they weren't.

He must have read the danger in her eyes, because the noble held up both hands.

"Alright. Let's not be too hasty here. Surely we can… talk this over."

Kallian burst out laughing, her voice harsh and raspy in the tense air. Everyone else exchanged glances but followed her, chuckling and laughing uncertainly.

Then she hurled her dagger at the man's chest. There was a solid _thud_ as it sliced cleanly into bone and then the pericardium. Vaughan collapsed on the spot, the handle protruding out from his front.

"Get her!" said the dark haired man.

Kallian moved forward with cold purpose, feeling virtually nothing as she ripped open his belly. The entrails spilled from the wound as he died. Then she turned to the other two, who backed away. Soris attacked, slamming his shield against the man's face. Kallian swung her own shield and shoved the man to the ground. He didn't even have the time to scream as her blade sank into his flesh.

It was quick and clean. Single wounds and instant deaths.

Apart from Shianni's sobbing, there was no other sound in the room. Kallian walked over to her cousin, sheathing her blade. The red haired elf was shaking uncontrollably, as if she had the Hungry Shivers.

Kallian knelt next to her, placing a hand on her cousin's arm. Shianni had her face covered with her hands. Pulling the hands away, Kallian examined the injuries with cold fury mixed with helpless dismay. She sucked in her breath, feeling hands wring her windpipe tightly. The numbness in her dissipated.

And for the first time in seven years, Kallian Tabris wept. Tears spilled from her eyes, stinging tracks down her bloody cheeks. She knew words would never be enough. It would never be enough to turn back time. Her cousin would never smile the same way again.

The three of them stayed that way for a long while- Kallian kneeling, Soris standing in grave silence and Shianni shaking on the ground.

 _I'm so sorry… I failed you. I failed you…_

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"You have returned!" said Valendrian, rushing towards them with Duncan. Then he stopped abruptly when he saw Kallian's bloodied armour. "Maker! Is that… is that _blood_?"

Soris shook his head, eyes weary. "Nelaros is dead. But the blood is mostly human."

Kallian supported Shianni as she staggered, face pale and drawn. Elonna and Valora followed behind them with hollow expressions.

"Maker preserve us!" said the Elder, taking in her cousin's appearance. "What _happened_?" he demanded, his voice strained.

"We had to kill our way through," explained Kallian in a flat tone. "It was the only way to survive."

"And what of Nola? Where is she?"

"Dead," said Valora, shaking her head. Moisture gathered in her eyes again.

Valendrian closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. He sighed, and when he opened themagain, the lines around them seemed to deepen into crevices.

"Then we were right to fear… I wish we could have prevented this loss."

"Did anyone see you?" said the Warden suddenly.

Kallian jumped- she had almost forgotten he was there.

Soris nodded. "I'm afraid so… we need to get out of town for a while."

Duncan's expression turned firm and serious. "Then I might be able to help you, if that is truly what you wish."

But before anyone could respond, an elf ran up to the group, panting.

"The guards are coming!"

Valendrian drew himself up straight and tall, as composed as ever. "Don't panic. Let us see what comes of this."

A group of guards approached them, armour and weapons clanking. Kallian turned around to face them, her stomach dropping to the ground.

"I seek Valendrian, elder and administrator of the Alienage!" said the leader haughtily.

"Here, captain," said the Elder. "I take it you have come in response to today's disruption?"

"Don't play ignorant with _me_ , Elder. You will not prevent justice from being done."

 _Justice?_ Justice _did you say?_

She opened her mouth but caught Valendrian's gaze. He shook his head warningly. With difficulty she closed it, the muscles of her jaws spasming.

"Two elves attacked the palace. They killed the Arl's son and some of the guards," he said, sweeping his gaze over Soris and Kallian. His eyes narrowed at the blood on their armour. "These two match the description. Guards, disarm them! They will wait in the dungeons until the Arl and the king return. The rest of you, back to your houses!"

Duncan chose that moment to step in, the gravity of his presence causing the men to falter. They eyed the crest on his armour.

"Pardon me. A word if you please."

"What is it Grey Warden? The situation is well under control, as you can see."

"Be that as it may, I hereby invoke the Grey Wardens' Right of Conscription. I remove this woman into my custody."

 _What?!_

Soris' eyes widened and Kallian felt the panic with him.

"What about me?" he said, voice shaking. "Are you leaving me here to rot?"

Duncan's face seemed to age further as he replied. "I'm sorry, but this is not charity. The Grey Wardens need skilled fighters. To take you would be condemning you to certain death, and I would not."

The colour in her cousin's face drained completely as he heard the last words. "No… no, no, no! Don't leave me here!"

"You can't do this!" yelled Shianni, pulling away from Valora and Elonna.

Kallian looked around wildly as the guards seized Soris by the arms.

"No!" she bellowed, lunging forward. She tried to pry their fingers off him, even going so far as to bite their hands. One guard howled in agony and twisted away, clutching his fingers.

But Kallian didn't get far. Strong hands pulled her away from them, restraining her as she kicked and struggled.

"Fuck this! Let me go!" she spat, tears blurring her vision.

"Kallian, Shianni!" cried Soris as he was led away.

"Soris!" shouted Shianni, fighting against Valora and Elonna, who were also crying.

Valendrian drew her cousin into his arms, embracing her. Shianni dissolved into tears, her frail form racked with tremors.

Kallian finally slumped in Duncan's grasp, defeated. She felt stinging as the sweat and tears mingled on her dry skin. It was like losing her mother again…

Again and again, she remembered the faces of the dead. Nola, the guards, Nelaros, the shem nobles… they had come so far. This couldn't be happening… it just couldn't.

And she stood there leaning against Duncan's armour as the first needles of rain came striking down from the heavy grey sky. Grey… grey like the dead eyes of her betrothed.


	4. Chapter 3: Not All Like That

**CHAPTER 3: Not All Like That**

"So… you're from Denerim?"

Kallian didn't reply immediately, dragging the whetstone along the edge of her blade slowly. The shem sat there awkwardly next to her, waiting.

"Why don't you just say the Alienage?"

Alistair cleared his throat. "Hmm, last I heard it was part of Denerim… unless they moved it recently."

The elf stopped the sharpening and paused, staring at the ground. "It's not a part of that city- it never will be," she said flatly and returned to the task.

"Oh, erm… sorry then," the other Warden apologized. There was a long period of silence as he cast about for ideas. "Ooh," he said enthusiastically, pointing to her necklace. "That looks interesting- is it elvish?"

Kallian hissed in irritation and tucked it beneath her chainmail. It was the badge apprentices earned when becoming qualified smiths. After Nelaros died, she had taken it to honour his memory.

"Oh, I get it," he said with a grin. "That's from your sweetheart, isn't it?"

 _Maker's breath…_

"Don't be shy," he teased, ruffling her hair. Kallian glared at him in disgust. "Nothing to be embarrassed about."

The elf smacked his hand away and stood up to sharpen her sword elsewhere. At this rate, she would never have a moment's peace and quiet. Kallian stalked off to a spot near the fire and sat down. If he hadn't been a Warden, she would have shown him what she did with shems- pulverize them. But she couldn't.

Ostagar was full of these humans- ones that were supposedly here for a noble cause: the Blight. To her they were all the same. All filthy murderers and oppressors.

Kallian's movements with the whetstone grew more vicious at the thought of what happened at home. The harsh sound gave her an odd feeling of comfort. Maybe a sense of normality in the hollow silence of her despair.

It had been a week since everything fell apart. Even now, with her eyes closed, the hard white faces of shems were burned into the slate of her mind. As if they were performing a routine task... another body, another dispensable life.

She remembered Shianni's broken form on the ground, sobbing and shaking.

 _It should have been me. It should have been me…_

For all her protests and bold talk, Kallian knew her cousin. Under the feistiness, Shianni was fragile and meek. And now it would be years… maybe never until her cousin fully recovered.

Kallian grimaced as her long hair caught suddenly on her armour. It was getting in the way of everything and wasn't practical in her situation. She gripped a lock of dark hair and eyed it with loathing. All her life, she had never cut it. Long hair in the Alienage was prized and highly approved of. And now… she would be free of it.

Taking Fang in her hand, she cut the chunks off without hesitation. And when she finally finished, she felt an inexplicable weightlessness. Not only physical, but a freedom in her mind.

Marriage, expectations, standards… she had spent her whole life chained to these. No more.

For the first time since leaving her home, she smiled.

Alistair looked over at her, eyes widening when he saw what she had done. She ignored him and took up her sword again, imagining the shems she killed over and over again in her mind.

Kallian hated them. She hated them for their actions and what they stood for. She hated Duncan, despite the fact he saved her life. It would have been better for him to have let her die.

And yet… yet she remembered her mother's words. They were distant in her mind, shoved aside by thoughts of revenge. But she heard them now, along with the clatter of her mother's dagger.

 _Adaia was silent as she picked up her weapon again. She placed it on the table and adjusted her gloves. Kallian stood panting, uncertain what her mother's response would be. The elf woman was always cool and focussed, never giving anything away. It was the first time her daughter had disarmed her._

 _After looking Kallian up and down, she tutted. She straightened out the younger elf's shoulders and slapped a hand on the sternum._

" _Posture, Kallian. Posture. Balance is crucial in combat. Your enemy can be fierce, they can be quick. But even the simplest trick can have them at your mercy."_

 _Kallian nodded. "I know, mother. You've told me before."_

" _But you keep forgetting," said Adaia, shaking her head. Her dark eyes softened, and the shadows on her face emphasized a weariness she rarely showed. "You have come far, emm'asha. With more training, you will be one even the humans cannot ignore."_

 _Kallian blinked, unaccustomed to such a compliment. She grinned, the childish part of her surfacing. "Ma serannas, mamae. I'll beat the shit out of the shems."_

 _The older elf sucked in her breath in disapproval. "Language! How many times must I tell you?"_

 _Kallian bit down on a smile. "Sorry…"_

 _Adaia held a hand to her temple, shaking her head. "I thought I taught you the basics of common courtesy. Being a city elf doesn't excuse you from dishonouring your forefathers." She put a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "You are of the Elvhen. A people of history and nobility. Never forget that."_

 _Kallian sheathed her own dagger and nodded. "I will never forget. Even if the shems hold a blade to my throat."_

 _At this, the elf-woman regarded her seriously. "Do not hold the humans in such low esteem. Your enemies are those who would destroy those you love. Be it human, elf, dwarf or even the Qun, those who would stand by your side are your true brethren."_

 _Kallian's eyes darkened. "You saw what they did."_

 _There was a flicker of something in Adaia's own dark eyes. "Yes… I did. But I will not have you use the word shem. They are humans."_

 _Kallian shook her head incredulously. "How can you still defend them? They_ beat _and_ tortured _Nehari because she stole bread from them. Bread!"_

 _Her mother's gaze hardened. "There is nothing that excuses them from what they have done. But in every race, there will be filth, those who don't care, and those… who are noble. In heart and in deed."_

 _Young Kallian made a noise of disbelief. "If there is such a sh-I mean human, I've never met one."_

 _Adaia smiled slightly at this. "I have."_

" _You have?" Kallian asked, cocking her head dubiously._

" _Once… Someone who knew what was right. Someone who valued life and protected it."_

 _Kallian remained silent, still not convinced._

" _She was a light in the dark," said the elf woman, turning to pack the equipment away. .._

A sudden pressure on her shoulder made her flick the blade at a face in the darkness.

It was Duncan.

Kallian lowered her weapon but she watched him guardedly as he sat.

"How are you faring, dear girl?"

The elf stopped a harsh laugh from escaping her. "Well enough," she said instead.

Duncan regarded her carefully, then turned his eyes on the pillars surrounding them.

"This has been a hard journey to take," he started again. "And you have left all you have ever known to be something your mother refused. I understand."

Kallian's throat constricted. "My mother?" she asked, voice coming out rough.

"You did not know?" he said, turning to her again. He might have blinked, but it was too dark to tell.

The elf stayed silent, wanting nothing more than to end the conversation.

Duncan didn't seem to notice- he continued. "I tried to recruit your mother, once. She was a fiery woman. She would have made an excellent Grey Warden."

Kallian's brows and mouth lowered in a frown, firm and stiff.

"Valendrian convinced me it was better for her to remain at the Alienage with her family. As there was no Blight, and thus no immediate need for recruits… I deferred to his wishes."

The new Grey Warden glared into the glowing embers of the fire, wrestling with herself. A part of her was infuriated that a human would know so much about her- it gave him a power over her that she resented.

"I did wonder how you knew Valendrian."

Duncan chuckled softly. "We have known each other for almost twenty years… since the time I recruited your mother, in fact."

The elf didn't reply, breathing heavily.

"I'm sorry," said the older Warden. "Have I upset you?"

Kallian tried to push past the huge mass on her vocal cords. "Forgive me. I'm poor company today… I don't wish to talk."

If Duncan was perturbed by the harsh quality of her voice or the bitterness in it, he didn't show it.

"I am sorry to hear that. Then I will disturb you no further." There was a clank and a shuffle. "In the meantime, I suggest you rest and gather your energy before the battle. You will need it."

Something warm and round was pressed into her hands. Duncan stood up and moved away.

Kallian smelled it before seeing it: porridge.

Moisture burned in her eyes as she remembered Soris' face as they led him away. In the cold depths of the dungeons, he would never receive such a simple meal. No fresh bread or hot soup, no clean water or ale. She would never drink with him at the tavern again. There was a chance she wouldn't see any of her family ever again.

Silent tears ran down her face as she took the first bite, imagining Soris shivering in the darkness, hungry and cold. Her body shook as she swallowed, sobbing.

Back at the Alienage… it wasn't always easy. It wasn't a comfortable life. But she had family, and she had Valendrian who was like an uncle to her. They made living in that ridiculous excuse of a settlement worth it.

And now, everything was gone.

Everything was gone.

Kallian took a few more bites and finished half of it before surrendering to her emotions. She sat there on the dirt, crying in the darkness. She knew her companions could hear it but didn't care. She just didn't.

And after a while, her sobs died down and she lay on her bedroll, succumbing to sleep. At the very least… in her wandering mind, she would find reprieve from the nightmares of reality.

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Kallian sprang into action and swung her sword wildly, fear gripping her again. All around her, genlocks and Hurlocks gnashed their sharp teeth. They were everywhere- left, right, front, the stairs…

Fire rose up in walls around her but the more intelligent of them backed away. As soon as the flames died down, the monsters lunged again. They pulled at her from all directions, managing to open up gashes under her arm and shoulder guards. Kallian hissed at the burning pain, doubling over.

"Argh!"

"Kallian!"

With difficulty, she pushed past the pain and swung her sword in a wide arc. Blood sprayed her face and armour. And with each swing, Kallian saw the faces of Shianni and Soris. Nelaros and Nola, Lenara and Delle. The elf laughed manically, imagining Vaughan's head rolling to the ground as she beheaded a nearby Hurlock. And the genlock- the captain of the guards. That one- the one with the moustache.

"Die!" she screamed, ignoring the blood streaming from her wounds.

Finally, a monster batted her sword aside and it clattered to the ground. With that blow, Kallian's strength gave out. She was shoved to the floor and gasped as the pile of bodies smothered her. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't move. A sword tip rushed toward her face.

She closed her eyes tightly.

The weight lifted off her and she opened her eyes. It was all a blur, and she thought she saw walking torches. But then her eyes adjusted and realized they were burning Darkspawn. Strong arms heaved her up and Alistair's sword sliced the guts of two genlock in front of her. The soldier charged at the remaining three creatures, letting out a war cry. One of them pierced him under his armour and he grunted but stabbed it back.

Kallian leaned weakly on the other Warden, still not attune with reality.

Her eyes shifted slowly to the blade on the ground. She moved to fetch it.

"Are you alright?" asked Alistair, fighting off the last genlock.

Kallian didn't reply, but bent down for her weapon. Gritting her teeth, she sprinted at the Hurlock cornering the soldier. With a leap, she delivered a shattering blow to its skull. The skull cracked and blood ran like a river as it crashed to the ground.

The four stood there panting.

"Maker…" breathed the mage.

Kallian swallowed, trying to eliminate the swelling in her throat. She looked down at her hands and saw them trembling.

 _I nearly died. I nearly died._

The elf lifted her gaze to the shems around her. Her eyes settled on Alistair and she sucked in her breath- in the flickering torchlight, his face reminded her painfully of Soris.

Alistair was the first to recover. His usually mild face was grim as he approached her.

"Are you hurt?"

Kallian shook her head slowly, still feeling numb.

The mage pulled out a poultice and salve from his pack and helped the soldier apply it to his wounds.

Alistair frowned when he saw the blood dripping from her armour.

"You are. Here, look. You're bleeding," he said, tutting. The mage turned around and handed them some of the ointment.

Kallian took it and watched the other Warden with a guarded expression. Alistair didn't wait for her consent before spreading the substance on her wounds. The elf hissed in pain, twitching at the contact. God, she had never had so many wounds before.

When he finished, the elf eyed him wearily. "Thank you," she said quietly. The words weren't as difficult to say as she thought. Alistair gave her a quick smile.

"No need to thank me. Grey Wardens look out for each other, right?"

She hesitated. "Right," she answered reluctantly and then shook herself. "Come on," she said to the others.

They followed her up silently.

Kallian paused in front of the door, hesitating. After that fight, everything felt so real again. She could die… she could really die.

And then what?

She tried not to think about it, because the only thing that came to mind was darkness.

Kallian pushed the door open and they were met with a welcoming roar.

The deafening sound stirred up fear. They were there, right where the beacon was. But they were also several steps from a huge, drooling ogre.

So close… yet so far away.

"What in Andraste's name…?" said the mage.

The monster turned its pupil-less eyes on them, blasting them with another roar. Kallian shielded her face as blood and chunks of flesh flew at them.

"Go!" she shouted to the soldier and Alistair. "Flank it, attack from behind!"

Without further thought, the three fanned out and lunged at it from both sides. The mage did his best to distract and hamper it, pelting it with arcane bolts and bursts of flame that barely penetrated its strong hide.

Kallian realized that it was going to take some time to bring it down. The ogre's brutish arms were like huge logs that swept them aside and created mini quakes when pummelling the ground. No matter how many gashes they made in its hide, the creature still had massive strength.

 _Strength…_

Yes, it was wearing down, but not enough for them to win this fight. They couldn't keep this up, dancing around its sweeping arms and rock-like fists. No, they had to go for the source. Kallian's mind was made up when the ogre elbowed Alistair in the chest. The Warden went flying through the air and landed hard on his back, groaning.

"Flaming swords!" she yelled at the circle mage.

She didn't wait for a reply as she whirled on the soldier. "Distract it! Wave your sword around, whatever it takes!"

The soldier nodded and threw an arrow at the ogre, shouting at it to bring its attention away from Kallian. She ran to place herself behind it and felt a growing heat in the grip of her sword. Kallian dropped her shield as she jumped on the ogre's back with her sword held high. She came down with a war cry, burying the blade deep in its flesh, just two fingerbreadths right of its spine. Her weight had the intended effect, as the sword sliced its way down further. The track of burning flesh and the collapse of the ogre were the confirmations that she needed.

It gave a shudder and crashed forward. Dead.

Still on its back, Kallian yanked out her sword and sheathed it, breathing heavily.

"Sorry I wasn't there to help out," said Alistair with a groan. Kallian walked to him and helped him up.

"I was a bit winded and… ow, I think I might have broken some ribs."

Kallian smirked. "I wouldn't be surprised."

"That ogre's arms were the size of tree trunks!" the soldier said, shaking his head.

"Well I'm glad it's over," sighed Alistair. He gestured to the beacon. "We should light that quickly."

The circle mage nodded and strode over to it. "It will be my pleasure." He held his staff over the logs and bursts of fire issued forth.

Ria released the breath she was holding. "Then it's done."

"It's up to the Maker now," said the soldier.

Alistair nodded. "We should go b-"

He never finished his sentence. A _whump_ sounded as she stared in horror at the arrow poking out from the mage's neck. The soldier similarly crumpled to the ground and a searing pain shot through her own shoulder.

Night swallowed up the world as she lost consciousness.


	5. Chapter 4: Eyes of Mercy

**CHAPTER 4: Eyes of Mercy**

"Well, here we are. Lothering. Pretty as a painting."

Kallian had to disagree with him. It was peaceful, yes. But not the village she was expecting.

The sky was overcast and Kallian had the feeling they didn't have much time before the downpour. She stepped off the stone bridge and eyed the outline of the chantry sombrely.

" _Maker keep us, maker protect us…"_

With difficulty, she shoved that memory away from her mind. She didn't want to see it again. But she knew those words would come back to haunt her in her dreams. Kallian dragged her leaden legs down the path toward the village.

The three of them were exhausted from the day's travel, wading through the murky swamps of the Korcari Wilds and arriving at Lothering to receive a bandit's welcome. Kallian's mouth stiffened as the dead face flashed in her head. More blood, more killing.

"Are you sure you can handle that?"

Alistair's voice snapped her back into reality. She frowned at him quizzically and looked down to see the blood seeping through the bandage on her arm.

"I said I'm fine," she said briskly.

 _For the Maker's sake…_

He seemed to sense her exasperation. "Sorry," the other Warden said quickly. "It's just… we've never had a female Warden bef-"

"And I suppose you shems _care_ about female elves?"

Kallian regretted it instantly, but she wasn't able to stop the bitterness lancing through her. She closed her eyes and tried to pull her thoughts away from Denerim.

Alistair looked as though he had been slapped. "I…"

"Forget it," said the elf hoarsely. "I didn't mean that. Let's just…" She took a deep breath. "Let's just get some supplies. Come on, Talon."

The Mabari hound wagged his tail in response, keeping close to her heels.

The four of them entered the village in silence, observing their surroundings absent mindedly. Kallian saw some men arguing with Chantry women on one side and villagers walking the paths grimly. Compared to the Alienage, the houses here were sturdy and clean. Moreover, the air wasn't saturated with the stench of urine or rotting food. But the people looked miserable.

 _Probably because of the news,_ she thought, looking around. Sooner or later, the villagers would have to leave the place.

She scanned around for a shop, or a tavern- somewhere that sold general goods. Kallian started at the hand placed on her arm. She frowned up at Alistair.

"Yes?"

"I… I don't know what you went through before all of this… crazy stuff. But we don't all mistreat elves, you know."

Kallian worked her jaw muscles. She knew what he was trying to say… but prejudice wasn't something that could be overcome in a matter of weeks, much less a day. She had spent her whole life hating sh-humans. What she needed was time.

All she could do was nod. "I know."

Thankfully, he left it at that and grew quiet again, knowing he wouldn't elicit anything more.

"So," she started, trying to dilute the hostility in her voice. "What did you want to talk about before the bandits?"

Alistair seemed to brighten a little, his face boyish again. He opened his mouth to speak but the witch forestalled him.

"His navel, I suspect. He certainly has been contemplating it for long enough."

"Oh, I get it. This is the part where we're shocked to discover how you've never had a friend your entire life."

"I can be friendly when I desire to," replied Morrigan in a falsely pleasant tone. "Alas, desiring to be more intelligent does not make it so."

"Anyway," said Alistair, ignoring her and turning to Kallian. "I thought we should talk about where to go, first."

"Alright…" said Kallian, thinking. "What about Arl Eamon? If he's as influential as you say, we need his loyalty first. You seem to know him well… and Redcliffe isn't far from here."

"I agree with you in this," said Morrigan.

"And after that?" asked Alistair.

"Well, I suppose we travel to Orzammar and then west to Denerim. Then finally the Dalish."

"Excellent, then we have a plan."

"One more question," said the elf. "Is there a way to contact the Grey Wardens?"

"Um…" started Alistair. "Unless we leave Ferelden to seek them out, we would have to send word to Weisshaupt fortress. And that's thousands of miles away."

"Well… that's convenient. What's _your_ opinion in this?" Kallian asked, beginning to realize this plan was mostly conducted by her. _Aren't you my senior?_

"I- well, I don't know where we should go! I'll do whatever you decide."

The elf stared at him.

"Now that is unsurprising," quipped in Morrigan.

"Arl Eamon is a good man, but I don't know for sure he's where we should go. I'm not going to fight about it."

Kallian raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "I wasn't expecting you to _fight_ about it. You're part of the team- we need to hear your opinion."

"Well…" Alistair's eyes suddenly turned shifty. "Alright, Arl Eamon it is then. I can give you directions if you like."

Kallian regarded him strangely but decided to drop it. She nodded. "That would be helpful. But let's stock up in Lothering first. It'll be rough travel for us."

"Then let us be off," said Morrigan, gesturing for her to lead.

Kallian continued down the path, still not understanding what had just occurred.

 _An elf leading the quest_ , she thought with a snort. _But I suppose stranger things have happened…_

She walked past the chantry to the left and scanned the signs. Her eyes locked onto a rickety looking building- an inn.

 _Better than nothing_ , she thought, striding over to it with her companions.

"Good thinking. We might find something here," said Alistair from behind.

"Hopefully something we _need_ ," the elf muttered as she pushed open the door.

The four of them stepped over the threshold into the dim tavern. It was hot and stuffy, with loud music played by a minstrel in the background. But it was a good deal cleaner than the one in the Alienage. Kallian stiffened as she remembered drinking with her cousins, sometimes falling so drunk they could barely move…

"Well, look what we have here men! I think we've just been blessed," boomed the voice of a dark skinned man.

Kallian's eyes narrowed at the armoured men approaching. Her hand instantly reached for the pommel of her sword.

"Uh-oh. Loghain's men," said Alistair worriedly. "This can't be good."

The other soldier narrowed his eyes. "Didn't we spend _all_ morning looking for a woman by this very description? And everyone said they hadn't seen one."

The leader's eyes gleamed. "It seems we were lied to," he said, cracking his knuckles.

Air in the tavern suddenly seemed to thin out and people looked away- they knew better than to shove their noses into this. Music faded away as the minstrel sensed the tension between the two groups.

Kallian moved forward to meet them.

"Take _one more step_ ," she said slowly. "And I promise my blade will be slicing through your jaw to the base of your skull."

"What did you say?" growled the leader, eyes blazing.

Before Kallian could reply, a new voice echoed in the tavern.

"Gentlemen, surely there is no need for trouble."

The trio and the guards turned to the source. It was a lilting, luxurious voice, coloured by an unmistakeable Orlesian accent.

The owner of that voice was equally striking, and Kallian's irritation at being interrupted faded. Instead, she stared. Flaming red hair framed a delicate face, cut short beneath the jaw. Back in the Alienage, long hair was considered the standard of beauty. But this woman pulled it off effortlessly.

Her skin was flawless- white like porcelain. She was garbed in plain chantry robes but carried herself with the poise of a noblewoman. Kallian suddenly felt filthy in her bloodstained armour.

The sister continued. "These are no doubt simply more poor souls seeking refuge."

"They're more than that!" the leader snarled. "Now stay out of our way, sister. You protect these traitors, you'll get the same as them," he said, wagging a finger.

His voice jerked her back to reality. Kallian turned murderous eyes on him and he faltered somewhat. " _Traitors_?" she said, drawing out the word in a low growl. "What are you talking about?"

The sister turned her attention to her. "Teyrn Loghain claims the Grey Wardens betrayed the king, or… haven't you heard?"

The ground beneath her seemed to tilt as the elf registered those words.

A harsh laugh exploded from her. She seemed to be doing this a lot these days. Even Morrigan jumped at the sound.

The raping at Denerim, Ostagar in chaos, Duncan's cold body lying on the earth, Loghain retreating, the whole blasted journey… and now _this?_

"Is this some kind of joke?" she said finally. "I'm sure your brains were spared at Ostagar," she sneered. "Say it again. That you saw us betray the king. Look at my eyes and say it."

The man's mouth twitched but he drew himself up straight. "We saw it for ourselves."

Kallian laughed disbelievingly. "Then tell me, _shems;_ why are Alistair and I the only Grey Wardens left? Shouldn't we all be alive, basking in the glory of our victory over the king?"

There was a silence.

"Well?"

Loghain's soldiers recovered and glared at her. The leader shook his head. "Enough talk, _elf_ ," he spat. "Take the Warden into custody. Kill the sister or anyone-"

He howled as Kallian struck his jaw with the pommel of her sword. There was a sickening crunch and blood dripped from his mouth as he doubled over.

What happened next was a blur in her mind.

Blows were exchanged in the cramped space of the tavern and people screamed everywhere. Kallian took down the first man to her right, kicking him in the chest. He yelped as his helmet banged the table and he broke his neck. The elf sank her blade in his abdomen. He choked as blood welled up and aspirated.

She whirled around and was shocked to see the lay sister landing a flurry of blows on the last soldier, wielding her blades almost artistically. Talon was panting happily at her, his massive bottom sitting on the leader's chest. The man groaned. Kallian walked over to bend down, taking hold of the front of his armour.

"All'ight! Ye've won! I surrender!" he said, covering his bleeding mouth.

"Good. He's learned his lesson and we can all stop fighting now," said the sister, sheathing her daggers. Kallian eyed her weapons. The woman caught her looking and returned the gaze unflinchingly. After a pause, Kallian relented. Whatever her secrets, they were hers alone.

"Not so fast," she said to the man. She slowly wiped her blade on the hem of his cape and moved it to his neck. "Now. Do you still say we are traitors?"

His eyes flashed. "I was there! The Teyrn pulled us out of a trap."

Kallian pressed the sword deeper. Blood trickled down his neck. "The _Teyrn_ killed your _king_ ," she hissed. "If you can't even see the truth, there's no point in giving you a merciful death, is there?"

She glared down at him in disgust. "Take a message to Loghain," she snarled.

"W-what do you want to tell'im?"

Kallian brought her blade up over her head dangerously.

"No!" the sister cried out.

The tip of her blade thudded an inch beside his head. He shuddered.

"That the Grey Wardens know _exactly_ what happened at Ostagar."

"I'll tell'im. Right away. Now. Thank you!"

He rolled to his feet and limped quickly out of the tavern.

"That went… well," said Alistair as she stood there silently, sheathing her blade.

The sister approached hesitantly. "I… apologize for interfering…"

Kallian turned to face her, still feeling the drumming in her veins from the rush of combat. She felt numb and weary.

"But I couldn't just sit by and not help," finished the woman.

The sister stood there tall and graceful, waiting for a response. Kallian looked up at her, acutely aware of the differences in their height. _Another sh- no, a human._

"No need for an apology," said the elf briskly. "There was trouble and you wanted to end it."

She grimaced inwardly and settled for a better tone. "We… were glad for your help. Forgive me, these are trying times for us," she said, adjusting her gauntlets.

"I am glad you found it in your heart to offer him mercy. Let me introduce myself. I am Leliana, one of the lay sisters of the chantry here in Lothering. Or…I was."

 _Manners, Kallian_ , she could hear her mother say.

The elf sighed, wiping the blood on the side of her mouth. "And I am Kallian Tabris."

Leliana nodded. "Those soldiers said you were a Grey Warden. And fighting Darkspawn is what Grey Wardens do, no?"

 _So what are you trying to say?_ Thought Kallian impatiently, eyes narrowed.

"Yes, I am a Warden."

"After all that has happened, you will need all the help you can get. That's why I'm coming along."

 _Did she just_ announce _that she's joining us?_

Kallian raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "You seem to have made the decision yourself. What makes you think we would agree?"

Leliana looked slightly uncomfortable but was utterly confident when she replied: "The Maker told me to."

 _Excuse me?_

"Can you… elaborate?"

"I-I know this must sound absolutely insane- but it's true! I had a dream… a vision!"

"More crazy? I thought we were all full up," muttered Alistair.

Leliana didn't seem to hear him. She gestured at the humans sitting around in the tavern.

"Look at the people here, they are lost in their despair. And this darkness, this chaos will spread. The Maker doesn't want this. What you do, what you are _meant_ to do, is the Maker's work. Let me help."

Kallian regarded her quietly, considering. Her first instinct was to laugh at her.

 _The Maker's work? A vision?_

This woman had clearly been cooped up in the Chantry for too long. Kallian knew if one wanted something badly enough, you could convince yourself into believing a delusion. Back in the Alienage, her father had been Andrastian but Kallian was no devout follower. But as she studied the sister's face, she felt a strange twinge of… something. She couldn't quite put a finger on it but the word closest to describing it would be… destiny.

Moreover, this woman was clearly no damsel in distress- one look at her combat skills told her all she needed to know.

"You're right, sister. We need extra help. But if what you say is true, perhaps your place is here."

"I assure you, I will be of more use to you. There are other sisters in the chantry. I _know_ that I must join you."

"And I can't convince you otherwise?"

"No."

The two stared at each other for a long moment, neither willing to back down. Finally, Kallian realized they were wasting precious time. There was no point in arguing.

She sighed. "Alright. You may join us."

Morrigan turned frosty eyes on her. "Perhaps your skull was cracked worse than mother thought."

Leliana brightened, smiling widely. "Thank you! I appreciate being given this chance. I will _not_ let you down."

Kallian averted her gaze from those blue eyes. They were disturbingly clear- like a mirror that you could lose yourself in if you stared for too long.

"Let's go," she said to the group, already walking to the door.

 _Fenedhis,_ Kallian thought grimly. The Warden was already beginning to regret the decision.


	6. Chapter 5: Soft on the Inside

**CHAPTER 5: Hard on the Outside, Soft on the Inside**

Leliana let her gaze sweep over her new companions.

It was a very odd mix of people- Grey Wardens, a witch and now a Qunari criminal. Not to mention she was a lay sister.

She cringed inside, thinking back to how she had explained her reason for joining. There were certainly better ways of doing it. Years of training should have made the words easier to come out. But the elf's dark eyes had caught her off guard... so unsettling, so challenging.

Leliana had stammered like a novice bard, struggling to string together a proper sentence. Her only hope had been that Kallian wouldn't decide she _was_ crazy and dismiss her. But the Warden had surprised her by accepting the offer. More than that, she hadn't stared at Leliana with the same look of scepticism the others had sent her way. There had been a glimmer of something like… curiosity.

It was a start.

The sister kept her distance from the witch, who was as frigid as ever. She had never met anyone so undisposed to conversation. Her lips were sealed tightly against any attempt to talk. Alistair was friendly enough, but the mention of her vision had made things… awkward. And Sten was… Sten. She couldn't read any emotions whatsoever in his face.

That left the Mabari hound, Talon.

Leliana knelt down to pat him, smiling as he panted and wagged his tail.

"At least I know you won't judge me," she said quietly.

Talon seemed to grin in response.

A shadow fell over them both and she looked up, shielding her eyes from the setting sun. It was Kallian. The elf's pale face was a stark contrast to the jet black hair and eyes. Her mouth was taut and serious as she regarded them. She glanced at the sister once and switched her gaze to the dog. Quickly. Mechanically.

"Here, Talon. We're going," she said simply, slipping on her helmet and turning to stride away.

Leliana gave the hound one last pat and he bounded after his master. She suddenly felt very alone despite being surrounded by people.

 _No matter,_ she thought firmly, lifting her chin. _This is nothing new._

The sister followed as the group walked with Kallian, wondering how they had let a new recruit lead them. She observed the straight back, the purposeful steps, the way she made decisions mechanically… yes, she could see it now. She could see why they had chosen her.

Leliana sighed, shouldering her bag.

The rain was beginning to prick her skin, and soon it showered down stronger. An oppressive mood as heavy as the ominous clouds above settled on the group of heroes. What sunlight that struggled to pass through the veil of rainwater lit up shadowed contours and haggard expressions. The effect was particularly striking for Kallian.

Leliana recalled the expression on the elf's face. It had been cold enough to freeze the fireplace in the tavern. In better conditions, no doubt it would be a finer face. Now it was hauntingly gaunt, blood smeared across it like war paint.

 _So much darkness in someone so young._

Leliana remembered the way she had lifted the sword without hesitation. She had honestly thought Kallian would kill the guard- thank the Maker she hadn't.

A bitter smile twisted her lips and she shook her head. She shouldn't be surprised at this... not when she herself-

"Don't worry too much about her," said a voice beside her. It was Alistair.

Leliana smiled, stretching her lips into a charming expression. Every interaction was an opportunity, a chance to prove herself. She would not let it go to waste.

"Oh, I'm not worried. I'm sure you have all experienced much hardship by now."

The Warden smiled back easily, brown eyes so transparent that she found it hard to dislike him.

"Wow. That's the nicest thing I've heard in a long time."

Leliana laughed. "I was simply being honest."

Alistair grinned, but then it slipped a little when he looked back at Kallian. "No, but really… conversations can be a bit of a challenge with this group."

"I did gather that," said the sister, amused.

"Morrigan," he said in a low voice. "Well… you've met her. She's not very nice. And our leader there…" He paused.

"She was quite polite," said Leliana carefully, not wanting to badmouth the person who recruited her.

Alistair laughed softly. "Believe me, she's usually not with humans."

Leliana blinked. "What do you mean?" Her encounter with elves had always been minimal, mostly servants that had been very cordial to her.

The Warden gave her a sad look. "She hates humans."

The smile on her face slipped off. "Hate is… hate is a strong word," she said, not knowing what to say.

Alistair nodded. "From what I heard from Duncan…" he faltered, taking a deep breath. "She lived at the Alienage in Denerim. I don't know anything else, but I have the feeling something bad happened."

Leliana returned her gaze to the elf. "Has she not told you?" she asked in surprise.

From her observation, the two had seemed close- at least, closer than the witch. But perhaps that wasn't saying much.

Alistair shook his head, sighing. "She won't tell me a thing. It's best to just keep my mouth shut before she decides to."

They both lapsed into a thoughtful silence and Leliana spent the rest of the trek over the hills wondering what could have happened. Thankfully, the weather forced them to camp early in a small area sheltered by a group of trees. It had been a while since the sister had walked such a distance- her legs were aching unbearably and beginning to cramp. She was going to have to push herself.

As Leliana pitched her tent in the rain, she found herself fumbling with the materials to her frustration. It had been years since she had had to assemble a tent. The sister tried to remember how to do it, staring at the pole in her hands. She sighed as she turned around to see how the others were doing and nearly walked into Kallian.

The elf seemed to jump at the same time as her, the distance between them barely a hairs-breadth. Kallian stepped back quickly, eyeing the materials behind the sister. Leliana blushed slightly, embarrassed. It was her first day and already she was struggling with such a simple task. But before she could try to explain, the Warden swept past her. Kallian picked up the poles and ropes, working methodically to set it up. Leliana watched, doing her best to re learn the steps.

She stood there watching until the task was done, shivering slightly from her rain drenched clothes. Kallian drove the last stake into the ground with her foot and tested it with her hands. She seemed satisfied.

"Thank you," said Leliana, genuinely grateful for the help. To be honest, she hadn't expected the elf to extend such kindness to her- especially after hearing what Alistair had said earlier.

"You're… welcome," said the elf hesitantly. Then she looked the sister up and down before striding off quickly without another word.

Leliana stood there blinking. A warmth came up to her cheeks for some strange reason- perhaps it was because of the bold way the elf had perused her body. She was sure she was reading it wrong, but some errant part of her mind made her uncomfortably self-conscious.

The sister recovered and took a few steps forward to enter the tent when the Warden reappeared. Leliana started when she felt a weight around her shoulders.

"Do you have any dry clothes?" asked Kallian.

 _Oh…_ Leliana fingered the thick blanket around her and realized the elf had probably noticed she was soaked. She cleared her throat, embarrassment deepening.

"I do."

The Warden nodded, dark eyes inscrutable. Again, she walked away silently to her own tent. Leliana watched her go, curiosity replacing the embarrassment. Kallian was certainly not like any elf she had met before. Or… simply anyone, for that matter. But there was one thing she was sure of now: under that mechanical, cold barrier, there was someone softer, someone kinder than she let on.

A small smile touched her lips as she lifted the tent flap.

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As usual, Kallian noticed that Morrigan set up her tent far away from the group. She dropped her greaves, gauntlets and breastplate noisily on the ground, sighing in relief. She inched closer to the fire and warmed her hands and stretched her aching limbs. The doubtful but welcoming smell of cooking food wafted to her nose while Alistair crouched by a large pot, stirring. She saw Sten standing like a statue a yard away and Talon resting by the road, head on his paws. And Leliana…

There was a thump as the sister dropped a fresh supply of chopped wood.

"Sten was kind enough to chop these for us," the woman said in answer to her unspoken question.

"I was about to say… I didn't think you were the type to…"

 _To what? Do a man's job?_ A voice said in her head.

"Never mind," Kallian said.

The sister gave a soft laugh. "I'm stronger than I look you know," she said, cocking her head. There was a note of teasing in her voice.

Kallian nodded. "You fight well," she said, recalling the way she had wielded her twin daggers with such ease. "I might be wrong… but those manoeuvres didn't look like skills a lay sister would use."

She knew she was treading on private ground when the other woman suddenly took great interest in the fire.

"Oh, I was not always a lay sister… I was a travelling minstrel before, in Orlais. Tales and songs were my life. And… there are a great many things you pick up on the road, no?"

It was a hastily made answer, in contrast to her usual fluidity with words.

Kallian was quiet for a moment before answering. "I suppose there are."

The elf returned her gaze to the fire and a silence followed.

Growing up in the Alienage, she had never really had female friends apart from Shianni. There were acquaintances, perhaps. But she had never been part of anyone's 'group'. They simply didn't have the same interests, the same opinions, the same goals. She didn't know what to say to them.

Shianni and Soris were her friends, accompanying her in numerous pranks and mischief. And the only other friend she had was Valendrian. Since her mother died, the only thing that kept her mind occupied enough to stop grieving were the studies with him. Elvish- albeit fragmented- came easily to her, and though the history lessons weren't always absorbing, they helped distract her.

Thinking about the Alienage brought a bitter taste to her mouth. Faces flashed in her mind- her cousins, Duncan, Valora, Elonna, Nola, Nelaros… but it was the last face that made her blood boil. _Vaughan._

 _Ma halam!_ Kallian thought with vengeance. She must have said this aloud because the sister jumped.

"I…" said Leliana. "…should go check on Alistair's cooking. He's taking quite a while and may need some assistance."

Kallian swallowed.

 _Fenedhis… I lost control._

She nodded stiffly, slightly embarrassed but also resigned. They always left… They always did.

She remembered the wariness the Wardens had shown when they first met her. The viciousness would lash out suddenly, catching her unawares. And she knew it drove people away from her.

Kallian stood there in the darkness, suddenly feeling drained. She let her arms hang limply by her sides as she stared into the crackling flames.

 _Mother…_

She could see Adaia's dark eyes in her mind. The hollowness of her cheeks, the thin arms and sallow skin. Feel the feverish temperature of her hand on her shoulder.

" _Be strong, Kallian. Be strong."_

 _Tears stung the elf's eyes and she rubbed at them. "I can't... I can't, mother."_

 _Adaia smiled weakly, sadly on her bed. "So soft hearted, dav'henan. Hard on the outside, soft on the inside. Do not let your enemies break you."_

 _The young elf shook her head, body heaving with her sobs._

" _I don't w-want you to die…"_

" _Mala suledin nadas."_

" _No… no… no," said her daughter, still shaking her head angrily._

" _Kallian…" said her father, coming to put his hand on her back. But she pushed him away, running out of the room. And she ran. She ran and ran for a long time, till she reached the gates of the Alienage. The elf rattled the barrier, howling at the world and the Maker. At the injustice of it all._

" _Get me out of here! Get me out of here!" she yelled crazily, as if possessed._

 _Hands pulled her away from the bars, trying to console her. But she couldn't stop, she would not be comforted._

 _Kallian slipped to the muddy ground and buried her face in her hands. And she wept until the tears ran dry, leaving nothing but bitter salt on her cheeks…_

She had never cried after that.

Never… until the day Shianni was raped. Until everything started to collapse around her at a startling rate. Soris was imprisoned, she was a wanted criminal turned Warden, and she had left the very place she had been desperate to leave all her life. But no, she hadn't wanted to leave like this.

Not like this.

The fire continued to burn in front of her, dancing without a care in the world. She stared at it without feeling- it was far past emotions now. She was an empty well, dry from years of famine and drought.

There was a laugh from the direction of the steaming pot. The sound was so foreign, so… forgotten. She lifted weary eyes to see the sister smiling, covering her mouth modestly. Her pale skin glowed and her copper hair burned in the firelight... and Kallian was reminded painfully of Shianni.

But something made her keep watching, hypnotized as the expressions changed from amused, to teasing, to surprised, then back to amused. And the elf wondered who this person was.

She shone like the sun… a light in the darkness.

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Sunlight filtered through the tent to strike her eyes the next morning. Kallian opened her eyes, expecting to feel exhausted from fragmented sleep, but she didn't. In fact, she felt well rested. The elf sat up in her bedroll, blinking from the brightness of the light.

Then she sniffed the air. Her stomach growled as she sensed the pleasant aroma wafting in. When she stepped out, her eyebrows climbed even further as the smell hit her full blast.

Leliana was bent over the pot, filling the bowls for those lined up. And _everyone_ was lined up.

Alistair, Sten and even Morrigan were standing there waiting, with Talon drooling on the side. Though… she noticed the witch still stood a distance away from the others.

"This is new," Kallian commented as she drew near.

At her voice, the sister looked up. She was smiling so brightly that Kallian averted her gaze uncomfortably.

"You are just in time, Kallian," she said, pouring some into a bowl and handing it to her.

The elf gave her a sidelong glance but took it.

"Thank you."

"Enjoy your meal," said Leliana, turning to fill the next bowl.

Alistair grinned at her. "We were going to wake you but-"

Everyone stared when Kallian's stomach chose that moment to rumble so loudly she wanted nothing more than to sink into the ground.

"… thought you might need the rest," finished the Warden lamely.

No one dared laugh, cautious of Kallian's potential reaction. No one, that is, except for Leliana.

The elf blinked at the sister kneeling beside the pot, who burst out laughing.

She cleared her throat. "Oh, I'm sorry. I just… didn't expect that."

Alistair made a suspicious noise behind her. Kallian gave him a withering look.

He coughed and avoided her gaze. "Mm… _thank_ you, Leliana," he said, reaching past Kallian to take the bowl. "It smells amazing."

"Yes, it is excellent, compared to your poor fare last night," said Sten bluntly.

"Hey!" said Alistair indignantly. "Mind you, that's one of the best recipes in Ferelden."

"Then Ferelden must have very bad recipes indeed."

Kallian snorted and looked at her own portion. It was a creamy soup of some kind, which did seem much better than Alistair's broth last night. But even she wasn't cruel enough to tell him that.

"Are you… feeling better?" asked Leliana carefully.

The elf jumped at her voice.

"I… yes," she replied awkwardly.

Kallian sat herself next to Alistair and took the first bite, then another, and another… soon she was wolfing it down like mad. She stared down at the empty bowl.

 _This is… really good._

She also realized she felt better. No bitterness, no struggle with emotions. Just a strange twinge of comfort. Like she was back at home in the Alienage.

Alistair made noises of approval from beside her, swallowing it down at a similar speed. He smacked his lips, sighing contentedly.

"Slow down, you too," said Leliana, laughing. "Is this how you Grey Wardens eat?"

"The taint in us gives us more than the ability to sense Darkspawn," replied Alistair with his mouth full.

The elf shot him a look of disgust, wiping her face. "You just spat some bread at me."

Alistair swallowed. "Sorry. What I meant was, our appetite increases a lot."

"Oh, I see," said Leliana, amusement dancing around her mouth. "I've never seen anyone eat with such… vigour."

"You mean with no table manners," said Kallian.

Leliana laughed again, and… whether it was her imagination or not, Kallian thought the whole camp looked brighter in the morning sun.

Kallian quickly downed the rest of her food and stood up. She turned to get ready but hesitated before walking over to Leliana. She was still eating but stopped to look up at her.

"That was… really good. Thank you," she said uncertainly.

The Orlesian cocked her head, a smile gracing her lips. "You are welcome."

 _By the Maker_ , she thought. _Her mood is infectious._

Kallian's lips twitched and felt a small smile surfacing in return.

"There!" said the sister, and the elf blinked.

"What?" she asked, frowning.

Leliana tutted. "No, it's gone. You should smile more often. Alistair tells me you hardly do."

At this, the elf's eyes darkened again. "He did, did he?" said Kallian quietly.

She felt weary again, empty. She thought about Shianni and how she would never see her smile again. If her cousin couldn't… how could she? _Damn shems._

The lay sister seemed to notice the change in her bearing and she blinked.

"I-I'm sorry if I-"

"It doesn't matter," she said roughly, whirling around to stalk over to her tent. Kallian disassembled it angrily, taking it down as if fighting Darkspawn. _I don't smile? Well I suppose I can't expect any of you to know. Born into privilege, the right race, the right family… it makes me sick!_

There was an excited bark nearby and Kallian sighed in frustration.

"Not now, Talon!" she growled.

But the Mabari didn't listen. He wagged his tail and jumped around trying to bite the material. Normally she would tolerate his behaviour, knowing he only wanted to help. Today, however, she had no patience for this.

"Get _off_!" she said, wrenching the pole away from him. Unfortunately, Talon seemed to think it was a game and he only tugged harder. "Down, boy!"

But it was too late.

There was a massive ripping sound and Kallian seethed when she saw the torn material in Talon's mouth.

 _You have got to be kidding me._

She covered her face with a hand, wanting to kick something. The Mabari seemed to sense the change in his master's mood. He dropped the piece and lowered his gaze to the ground guiltily.

"Here boy! Talon!"

Kallian glared as the hound made his escape, following the treat in Alistair's hand. The other Warden steered the dog as far away from her as possible. The elf looked up at the sky, trying to calm herself down. Then, she flung the ruined tent aside to pack her things, trying not to look in Leliana's direction. Chances were she was laughing at her.

She knew it. Shems would always be shems. No one cared about _elves_.

After strapping on her armour and weapons, Kallian led the group out of camp to the main road. She walked silently, still in a foul mood. For a long while they all travelled without talking, following the paths and signs.

The sun was high in the sky when they reached a slope leading down to the next path. She looked around and didn't see any source of water. Already the hot weather was making sweat soak through her shirt. Kallian tugged the wineskin out of her pack and took a long drink from it. Behind her, everyone paused with her. Alistair and Leliana were the last to arrive, talking quickly in low voices about something. Whatever it was, the sister seemed amused.

The smile slipped off when she saw Kallian's expression. She cleared her throat and looked away.

Kallian's face hardened and she turned back to the front.

"Alistair," she called.

The Warden walked over to her. "Yes?"

"How long until Redcliffe?"

"I would say… a few hours, at the most. It won't be too far from here."

Kallian nodded, wiping the sweat from her forehead. She jerked her head at a nearby tree with long spreading branches. Its shadow was wide enough to shade all of them.

"We rest here."

"Good call," said Alistair in relief, wiping his own sweat. "I think I'm dying in this heat."

Kallian didn't respond and swept past him, dropping on the grass. Sten and Morrigan joined her, as quiet as ever. She liked that about them- no talking, just doing what was necessary.

To her irritation, Alistair sat next to her.

"Kallian…"

When she didn't reply, he sighed. "I heard about what happened… I'm sorry. It's not my place to comment on your expressions. You must have met some bad… what do you call humans?"

Kallian eyed him for a second, wondering if this was another of his dry jokes. "Shems."

"Yes, that. Well, as I said before, we're not these bad shems you probably met."

"You're not."

Alistair blinked. "Well… erm… then, that's good."

"I try… I try not to…"

"To glare?"

"… I was going to say resent, but… you can't just eliminate years' worth of hatred."

The Warden looked at her seriously. "You're right. And I know what you mean."

Now it was Kallian's turn to blink. "You do?"

Alistair suddenly looked caught out and he fidgeted before speaking. "Rats, me and my big mouth. Do you… promise not to tell anyone?"

"About what?"

"I suppose I was going to have to at some point. Before we arrive at Redcliffe, I have a secret I need to share with you. Well, seeing as there's no one else I trust…"

"You seemed to be getting along fine with the lay sister."

Alistair blinked at the insinuation. "Oh, Leliana? No… besides, we've only just met."

"Come on then, out with it."

"Can we move over there to talk?" he said, pointing to another tree nearby.

Kallian nodded and moved to the position. They both sat down and she looked at him curiously.

"Right… so I told you about how Arl Eamon raised me, right? And my mother was a serving girl at the castle when he took me in?"

 _Okay…_ thought Kallian, narrowing her eyes.

"The reason he did that was because… well, my father was… king Maric. Which made Cailan my… half brother, I suppose."

There was an awkward silence.

"So… you're the illegitimate heir to the throne."

"I guess I am, at that. More like the royal bastard," he said.

He tried to cover it up with an upbeat tone that failed to suppress the bitterness underneath.

"I see…"

"I would have told you earlier but… at the time, it didn't mean anything to me. I was an inconvenience, a possible threat to Cailan's rule and so they kept me a secret. I've never talked to anyone about this."

Kallian blinked, slightly taken aback. "Never?"

"Never," said Alistair, shaking his head. "Everyone who knew either resented me or coddled me. Even Duncan kept me out of the fighting because of it."

"But Arl Eamon. He treated you well?"

"Oh, yes… he did," said Alistair rather half heartedly. Kallian wondered at this. Then his face turned sour. "Well, his wife wasn't too happy though."

"His wife?"

"Isolde… well, let's just say she wasn't ready to take on the rumours."

Kallian crossed her arms. "Rumours?"

"About who I was. That I was the Arl's bastard son."

The elf paused, feeling some sympathy for him. She had a go at imagining being in his boots, growing up in a home you felt unwelcome in, knowing you were abandoned by your own father… an inconvenience, he said.

At least she had grown up loved in the Alienage surrounded by real family. She knew how important it was.

"So that's what I meant about hatred. I… resented everything then," Alistair explained, his expression grey. "No matter what I did, how hard I tried, I was always a waste of space. And… I couldn't exactly change my heritage now, could I?"

"No," said Kallian quietly. "You couldn't."

"And no, I don't have any other secrets," he said, his tone bouncy again. "Besides my unholy love of fine cheeses and a minor obsession with my hair. Just the prince thing," he finished off with a silly grin.

She couldn't help it- she smirked.

"There we go!" he said suddenly, startling her. "You smiled."

Kallian's smirk switched to a grin. "Alright, you got me," she said reluctantly.

"Look, what I wanted to say is that… everyone has old socks they want to throw out, right?"

The elf's eyebrow quirked up at that. "That's a strange analogy."

"Alright, maybe I left that one out- I'm secretly a court jester." Kallian snorted. "Anyhow, what I _really_ want to say is… we're all here to help you. We have to fight this Blight and save the world, right? So relax and put a smile on that pretty face."

Alistair seemed to realize what he just said. The Warden turned a deep shade of red. "Um… that came out wrong."

Kallian frowned. _Wait… he doesn't-?_

"Anyway," he said suddenly, cutting across her thoughts. "We should start moving again."

He stood up quickly and hesitated before offering a hand to her. She nodded, taking it and pushing herself up off the grass. Kallian looked him in the eye.

"Thanks for telling me Alistair. It was brave of you."

The Warden gave her a sad smile. "You're welcome. And thanks for listening without… you know, judging."

"Why would I judge you for that?"

"Bastards aren't usually a welcome companion."

"In case you hadn't noticed… we're already a weird bunch of people."

Alistair glanced at the others and laughed. "Good point."

And together, the Wardens laughed and joked as the group walked the main road. Talon followed close behind her, and Kallian even forgot the little mishap he caused back at camp.


	7. Chapter 6: Forbidden Fruit

**CHAPTER 6: Forbidden Fruit**

Kallian felt her eyelids droop the moment they stepped into the inn. All of them were battle weary, bloodied, and more than a little impatient. Thanks to Morrigan's potions, the wounds weren't as painful as they should be. However, walking up the blasted hill wasn't exactly a stroll through the garden either. Her ligaments were overstretched and she had gashes everywhere on her body.

The attack on Redcliffe village had been overwhelming, with more than a few waves of Darkspawn descending on them relentlessly. Not one of her companions had been spared- Alistair was sporting a lot of nasty gashes himself, as magic could only do so much. They had all taken the salve Morrigan had handed out. That would have to be enough.

Even Sten, indomitable as he was, had broken the bones in his left forearm from one of the skeletons. Leliana had also taken some hits- which was inevitable, since Chantry robes provided no protection from damage. It had taken most of Morrigan's energy to shield the sister- which she didn't hesitate to complain about. Kallian resolved to gather some more coins to buy the woman armour when they had the opportunity.

For now, she turned bleary eyes to the innkeeper, who was smiling broadly.

"Ah! Heroes of Redcliffe, welcome! Come to spend the night, I suppose?"

"Yes. Have you room for five people?"

"Well," he said, looking at Talon dubiously. "Maybe your dog could stay with the stablemaster, but for five people, certainly! Though two of you would need to share a room."

Kallian nodded reluctantly. Considering the size of Sten and Morrigan's incontestable preference for solitude, it was likely this would be herself. Kallian usually preferred to be alone, but today all she could think about was collapsing on a bed. After the rough travels and sleeping on the hard, cold ground, Kallian was grateful for this change.

Morrigan sighed and approached her, lips twisted uncomfortably. She opened her mouth but the elf forestalled her with a hand.

"Yes, I'll share with Leliana," she sighed in resignation.

The witch regarded her a moment before nodding. "I… appreciate this."

Kallian grunted in response, having hardly the strength to talk.

Alistair looked at her in concern. "You alright, Kallian?"

"I'm fine, just tired."

The innkeeper walked up the stairs, leading them to their rooms. "I'm sorry we don't have individual rooms for you all. The folks from Lothering have been migrating here a lot lately. We're a mite short of candles as well but I promise you a good breakfast in the morning."

"Oh, good," said Alistair eagerly.

They reached the upper level and the portly innkeeper handed them the keys.

"Right, so these three rooms are yours," he said, gesturing at Alistair, Sten and Morrigan. He turned to the elf and lay sister. "And this is yours." The man smiled widely at them all. "Goodnight everyone, I'm sure we'll all be sleeping soundly tonight. I'll be downstairs if you need me."

Kallian raised the key to the lock and tried to insert it. She fumbled, hands slow and awkward from fatigue. She growled in frustration.

"Here, I can do that for you," said the Orlesian.

The elf handed her the key and Leliana opened the door.

As soon as they entered, Kallian made straight for the bed and lay face down.

The other woman tutted. "… you should at least take your armour off."

"Later," she replied, voice muffled.

"It's bad for your circulation. It's too heavy." She paused for a moment. "I'll do it for you."

At that, Kallian panicked and hissed, lifting her head. "I can do it myself… just give me a few seconds."

"I don't think you'll be getting up any time soon. Come on, stop being such a baby," Leliana said with a small smile.

Kallian flushed indignantly.

 _A baby!_ She scoffed, but didn't have the strength to protest as the other woman started disassembling her armour. First the shoulder guards and then the breastplate…

"Maker!" exclaimed Leliana.

"What?" Kallian asked, frowning.

"You… no wonder you were in such a poor state," said the sister in disapproval. "Here, we need to get a salve-"

"I'm fine," said the elf quickly. "It's nothing."

"Kallian, you have so many wounds…"

The Warden sat up, sighing. "I'll... I'll do it myself."

Leliana looked at her dubiously. "Are you sure you can reach that far?"

"I just need a mirror and-"

"Don't be silly," said the sister, already moving to fetch the salve.

"Hey-"

But she was out the door to visit Morrigan. Kallian grimaced- the witch wouldn't take kindly to being disturbed. As she waited, though, she didn't hear Morrigan's snappy voice travelling down the corridor. In fact, it was completely silent.

Leliana returned with the salve and opened the small box.

"Lie down," said the sister.

Kallian blushed furiously in the dark of the room. She hoped it wasn't visible.

 _You can't be serious…_

She stiffened, blood pounding in her ears. Even the burning pain from her wounds were dulled by the sheer panic she was feeling right now. This was dangerous. The woman was dangerous.

But the sister made a noise of frustration and pushed the elf down by force. Kallian had no choice but to obey, swallowing heavily. She focussed her eyes on the door, feeling like a wild animal cornered by hunters.

Leliana lifted the bloodied shirt and tutted. Kallian lay there as stiff as wood, trying not to jump as soft fingers spread the salve on her wounds. There were even places she hadn't realized were injured- most likely due to the effects of the potion. She hissed and jerked away involuntarily at a particular spot on the shoulder blade.

"Sorry," said the sister, dabbing more gently. It didn't help. It really didn't help… all it did was fan the fire in Kallian, making her sweat and curse inwardly. Maker, she had been right to distance herself from her. She silently urged the woman to hurry up- she couldn't take it any longer.

At last, Leliana finished spreading the ointment and snapped the box shut.

"There," she said. "Now that wasn't so bad, was it?"

Kallian felt like a child being scolded. She pulled her shirt down and sat up, still unnerved.

"Thank you," she said hoarsely.

"You didn't have to do that, you know," said Leliana.

"Do what?"

"Take on all those Darkspawn yourself."

The Warden hesitated. "Chantry robes aren't for fighting in, in case you hadn't realized."

The sister laughed softly. "I suppose not… but I didn't imagine there would be so many Darkspawn."

"Well, we can get armour for you next time. You'll need it," said the elf, climbing into her bed. It was risky to talk anymore.

Leliana moved over to her pack to take out her nightclothes. Kallian averted her eyes and lay on the bed in her tunic and pants. Her eyelids were soon drooping again.

"Aren't you going to change?"

The Warden's eyes snapped open.

She looked over at Leliana, who was sitting up on the cot. The elf looked up at the ceiling again.

"No," she said flatly.

"Oh…" said the sister awkwardly. There was a pause before she moved to lie down.

The elf lay there frozen, warring with herself inside. But she realized she had probably been a bit rude.

"I lost my pack at Ostagar," said Kallian.

Leliana seemed to jump at her voice. She hadn't expected a reply.

"There wasn't much I had anyway."

"I see…" said the other girl. "I have spare clothes if you-"

"Er, no. That's alright."

"Are you sure? I could-"

"No, really. I hate dresses."

At this, Leliana burst out laughing.

"You hate dresses? Well… I mean, I suppose being a Warden and such, it's not convenient but…"

Kallian grimaced. "I never liked them. I only wore them for my father's sake."

"But you would look wonderful in a dress."

The elf resisted the urge to gag. "Maker, you sound like Shianni." The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. She clamped her mouth shut.

"Who is that?" asked Leliana.

Kallian didn't respond immediately and the chantry sister seemed to give up after a while. The elf wrestled with her mind in the darkness before she spoke.

"She was my cousin," she replied quietly.

"Oh… what was she like?"

Kallian's chest constricted. "She was… one of a kind," she said, remembering her cousin's feisty nature. "She never let anyone order her around. But it was all tough talk," she said, smirking to herself. "She chickened out everytime we did pranks."

"You seem to have been very close to her," said the sister, catching the expression in the dim moonlight.

"Mm. I was. Urgh… but I never shared her interest in clothes."

"But isn't that what all girls talk about?"

Kallian grimaced. "Not _all_. Besides, what about weapons and wrestling? Playing soldiers around the neighbourhood? How can _dresses_ be better than that?"

Leliana giggled. "But what about _shoes_?"

" _Shoes_?" asked the elf incredulously.

"Yes!" said the sister emphatically. "They are so pretty! Oh, I do love a pair of nice Orlesian shoes. Not like the ones here in Ferelden. So dreadful."

Kallian snorted. "Shoes are there to keep your feet dry."

"Ah, but some say that good shoes can take one to high places."

"Good shoes are _practical_ ones," said the elf stubbornly.

She saw the smile on Leliana's face in the darkness. "But good shoes can be practical _and_ nice to look at."

"There are no shoes like that."

"How do you know?"

Kallian threw her hands up in the air. "Never mind. In this, we can agree to disagree."

Leliana chuckled. "Fair enough." She paused. "Then who did you play with if Shianni didn't join you?"

Kallian's eyes glinted in the darkness. "Soris- my other cousin. We ran around with some boys in the neighbourhood, wielding sticks and makeshift shields. It was good fun," she said, grinning. Alarm bells rang in some peripheral part of her mind- Maker, this woman was making her spill out her history at a startling rate. Kallian cleared her throat.

"But enough about me, what about you? What's a beautiful person like you doing in the chantry?"

 _Fenedhis lasa! Did I just say that?_

In her haste to change the subject, that errant part of her mind had spoken.

But Leliana didn't seem to notice. She laughed. "You flatter me. There are no beautiful women in the cloisters, you think? Oh, you would be wrong."

 _Thank the Maker,_ thought Kallian, sweating. Then she recalled the coy way Leliana had talked with Alistair. _Of course, she would never imagine I-_

"There are many lovely young initiates in the Lothering cloister," she was saying. "All of them chaste and virtuous. Ah, it added to their mystique."

"And why is that?"

"Because then…" the sister began, slightly confused she would ask. "Then they would be forbidden. And forbidden fruit is the sweeter, no?"

"Oh, right," said Kallian, blushing.

 _And what about your fruit?_

Her blush deepened at this unvoiced question. She tried to suppress these ridiculous urges.

But with each effort to push it down, her mind seemed to rebel against her. She remembered shaking hands with Leliana to apologize that morning and the dramatic effect that it had on her. The dazzling smile on her face back in the camp, the way the fire lit up her features…

 _Damn it. This is a sh- a human I'm thinking about!_

Friend or not… she was a human. A female human. She couldn't forget that.

 _So soft hearted, dav'henan. Hard on the outside, soft on the inside._

She couldn't let this in. She had to protect herself.

Kallian shut her eyes tightly, trying to let the darkness swallow the images in her head. She could hear her mother's voice from years ago- so clearly it was like she was in the room with her.

 _They were down in the basement again and Kallian revisited the emotions she had forgotten. Her mother looked at her with mixed empathy and sternness._

" _Kallian… you know this cannot be."_

 _The elf stared down at the ground silently._

" _Your father will…"_

" _He'll what?" said Kallian, eyes flashing. "Never look me in the eye again?"_

" _No. But he will not take it well."_

 _Kallian shook her head._

" _It is the right thing to do, emm'asha. For your happiness."_

" _How will this make me happy?"_

 _Adaia sighed, looking weary. "You will have a husband to provide for you the rest of your life. And you will live in comfort."_

" _What about choice?"_

 _The elf took her daughter's hands in hers. "I want you to have a future, da'vhenan. If you pursue this relationship with Arissa… the elvhen will not approve."_

" _I can't change what I feel!"_

" _Feelings can fade over time. Kallian… you must do this for yourself. It is your duty."_

 _The younger elf hung her head and dropped her hands to her side. For a while, she stood there motionless and Adaia gazed at her in concern._

 _Then…_

" _Ma nuvenin."_

 _Her mother relaxed and gave her an encouraging smile, nodding._

" _It will be difficult, but remember that it will be harder if you continue this," she said. Adaia shook her head. "I would if I could, change how it is among our people. But marriage is something you cannot sacrifice, my child."_

" _I understand."_

" _Then go, end things now before it is too late."_

 _Kallian left the room with heavy footsteps, hating what she was about to do…_

"Kallian?"

The Warden didn't reply, still trying to battle the acid rising up in her at the memory. She had to fight, she had to keep the promise she had made to her mother. For her family's sake. For the honour of the Tabris name.

"I'm going to sleep," the elf said roughly, turning to face the wall.

She felt Leliana's eyes burn into her in the darkness. The woman would have surely heard the change in her voice... but Kallian didn't care. More accurately, she _couldn't_ care.

"Of course. Goodnight, Kallian."

 ** _So that was just additional stuff to explain the conflict in Kallian right now. Hope you're all enjoying the story- reviews are all welcome, tell me what you like or don't like. Always look forward to hearing your thoughts on it. This was a memory that was referred to back in the Honeymoon chapter of the other fanfic- I wonder if anyone realized this_**


	8. Chapter 7: A Watch with the Sister

**CHAPTER 7: A Watch with the Sister**

When the doors opened, Leliana had to gape at the scene that waited for them. Even Morrigan raised her eyebrows at the sight of Bann Teagan's strange acrobatics.

"This is not quite what I expected."

For once, Leliana had to agree with the witch.

From the front, she heard Kallian mutter in a string of elvish.

" _So these are our visitors? The ones you told me about, mother?"_ came a voice that was a disturbing fusion of pitches. It certainly did not belong to the young boy at the far end of the room.

His mother, Isolde, was standing next to him looking pale and defeated. "Y-yes, Connor."

He turned his cold, staring eyes on Kallian. _"And this is the one that defeated my soldiers? The ones I sent to reclaim my village?"_

"Yes," choked Isolde.

The boy narrowed his eyes. _"And now it's staring at me. What is it, mother?"_

"Th-this is an elf, Connor… you… you've seen elves before. We have them here in the castle…"

Connor's eyes seemed to brighten in recognition. His expression smoothed out to a horrible smile.

" _Oh, I remember! I had their ears cut off and fed to the dogs! The dogs chewed for hours!"_ he cackled gleefully. _"Shall I send it to the kennels, mother?"_

Leliana stood there listening, speechless. _By the Maker… what a terrible thing to say!_

She glanced worriedly at Kallian's back, certain the elf would lose her temper over this. She felt a rush of sympathy for the poor girl… this would only worsen her opinion of humans.

To her surprise, the elf remained silent and still. But then again, it could be the calm before the storm…

Isolde turned to her son, trembling and shaking her head. "C-Connor… I beg you! Don't hurt anyone!" she said tearfully, falling to her knees.

" _Get away from me, fool woman!"_

His mother stayed on the ground, sobbing in despair. The boy ignored her and turned back to his speechless audience.

" _Now… where were we? Ah, yes. I was greeting my guests…"_ His cold blue eyes narrowed. _"Why are you here? Have you come to take over my castle?"_

Leliana held her breath when Kallian spoke up.

"We're not intruders," the elf said, her voice mechanical and clipped. "We've come to see Arl Eamon."

" _Well then, why didn't you say so? But I'm afraid father is ill, so very ill… we_ really _shouldn't disturb him. Isn't that right, mother?"_

"I… I don't think…"

" _Of course you don't!"_ spat Connor, glaring at her in contempt. _"Ever since you sent those knights away, you've done nothing but deprive me of my fun. I crave excitement, action! And this woman shall repay me for saving that_ stupid _village!"_

He looked down at Bann Teagan sitting on the floor. _"Kill them! Kill them all!"_ he commanded before sprinting out of the room.

"Well, I guess negotiating wasn't an option after all," commented Alistair, drawing his sword.

Leliana had to agree- the boy was far from being persuaded now. She drew her daggers as the soldiers charged at them with Bann Teagan at the front.

Kallian slammed her shield into the Bann's chest, bringing him down. The man tried to get up but the elf pommelled his head, knocking him out.

Leliana fought defensively, going through a range of complicated manoeuvres to confuse them. Unfortunately in their state of possession, the men were too vicious for her to show any mercy. With reluctance, the sister deflected his uppercut and delivered a spinning slash to his torso. She grimaced as blood gushed from his abdomen.

Several men were frozen from Morrigan's spell and she took the opportunity to stab them once they unfroze. Sten simply crushed the soldiers encased in ice.

Once the soldiers were all dead, Kallian stalked over to the woman sobbing on the ground. To her shock, the elf grabbed the woman by the wrist, shaking her.

"Kallian!" said Leliana in alarm.

"You've been protecting him this entire time!" she growled, ignoring the sister.

Isolde looked up at her pleadingly. "Yes, I did. And I am sorry… but I could not tell anyone. I-I didn't know what to do."

Kallian glared at her, and then let the arm go in disgust. "We could have prevented this," she snarled, gesturing at Bann Teagan's prone form.

Fresh tears flowed down the Arlessa's cheeks. "I… I…" Then she grasped Kallian's leg. "Please, Grey Warden… do not hurt my son. He's not responsible for what he does."

Kallian stood there stiffly, face as hard as marble as the woman sobbed at her feet.

"So _he_ is the evil you spoke of, I presume," said the witch.

"Nooo!" howled Isolde. "Don't say that!" Then she broke down into tears again.

Leliana exchanged helpless glances with Alistair. He sighed.

"Isolde… we know this is difficult, but can you tell us what happened?"

When the woman lifted her head, Leliana noticed that her expression wasn't as venomous as the first time she saw him.

"Connor didn't mean to do this!" she insisted. "It was that mage, the one who poisoned Eamon- he started all this! He summoned this demon! Connor was just trying to help his father!"

At this, Kallian's stone cold demeanour started to shift. Leliana wondered at this.

But before any of them could respond, there was a pained groan from behind them. They all turned to see Bann Teagan struggling to rise.

Isolde hurried past them all to give him a hand. "Teagan! Oh, Teagan! Are you alright?"

"I am… better now, I think. My mind is my own again."

"Blessed Andraste!" said the Arlessa, her tense face relaxing. "I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if you had died. Not after… not after I brought you here. Oh, what a fool I am!"

"Had she realized earlier, this would not have been necessary," stated the Qunari, unimpressed.

Isolde turned to Kallian and Alistair. "Please, there must be a way to save Connor!"

There were footsteps on the stone floor, and everyone turned again.

"I am sorry, my lady. But Connor has become an abomination. He's no longer your son," said Jowan, looking very apologetic.

" _You!_ " shrieked Isolde, eyes wild and furious. "You did this to Connor!"

"I didn't!" protested the mage. "I didn't summon any demon. I told you! Please, if you'll let me help…"

" _Help_? You betrayed me! I brought you here to teach Connor and you poisoned my husband!"

Kallian hissed, slamming her sword tip into the ground.

Everyone jumped and brought their attention to her.

"Possessed or not, he's committed atrocities that you could have prevented. We don't have time- what are the options?" she demanded.

Jowan looked relieved. He explained to them the potential solutions. Even the Arlessa looked hopeful as she listened.

"You can enter the Fade, then? And kill the demon without hurting my boy?"

The mage's eyes became shifty and he hesitated. "No, I myself can't enter but another mage can. It normally requires lyrium and several mages… but I… I have blood magic."

Alistair reacted with a noise of disgust. " _Blood magic_? We can't let him use that, it's forbidden!"

"You're going to sacrifice someone, aren't you?" said the elf suddenly.

Everyone looked surprised at her knowledge of this. Jowan nodded, hanging his head.

Isolde stepped forward without hesitation. "Then… if that is the price that must be paid, I will do it."

"No, Isolde!"

She met Bann Teagan's shocked face. "If I must give up my life to save my son's, I will not falter. To me, the answer is clear."

"What about the Circle Tower?" asked Kallian.

"Of course!" said Alistair, slapping his forehead. "One of the treaties is for the magi, after all. We could go there."

Bann Teagan nodded. "It is only a day's journey across the lake, if you are willing to go."

Kallian's dark eyes gazed at the floor.

 _No… don't let them sacrifice the Arlessa_ , thought Leliana. _It isn't right._

The elf looked at Morrigan for her opinion.

"'Tis your decision, but… in the constraints of time, I think it sensible to try using blood magic. We have a willing participant, after all."

Leliana's lips twisted in distaste- trust the witch to suggest this.

"I disagree," said Alistair, shaking his head. "There's a reason blood magic is forbidden. Two wrongs don't make a right."

Kallian turned her dark eyes on Leliana. The sister shook her head. "If there is a way to avoid the death of innocent lives, I would take it."

The elf regarded her for a moment before turning to Sten, who agreed with Morrigan.

Kallian faced them all. "We leave for the Circle Tower," said the elf, sheathing her sword.

Leliana let out a breath of relief.

"Then Maker guide you," said the Bann, looking equally relieved. "And we will keep Jowan here as a precaution."

They all nodded and filed out of the room, pushing open the doors to step out into the fresh air. And, as the five of them descended, Leliana couldn't help but notice a certain vulnerability in Kallian's bold steps, a slight slouch in her normally straight back and a stiffness to her shoulders. She found herself wondering more and more with each step forward.

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 _Fire. All she could see was fire._

 _Kallian stood on the edge of a canyon at a dizzying height. The rock underneath her feet crumbled, sending small pieces tumbling down into the sea of marching Darkspawn._

 _She could feel the vibration produced by thousands and thousands of armoured feet, travelling up to the precipice. Kallian felt so sick from fear she thought about jumping down to end it. To end her life._

 _There were so many… so many depraved creatures that would overrun every inch of Thedas. They could wipe out a patch of land within seconds. As one unit, the Darkspawn was a beast that swallowed the world._

 _She stared down helplessly at the hordes of monsters, each carrying a flaming torch in the depths of the gorge. Even from this distance, she thought she could make out the leering, skeletal faces._

 _But the horror of this nightmare was far from over._

 _Kallian jerked back, panic ripping through her as she heard the most deafening sound she had ever heard. The dragon slammed down on a bridge across the chasm, the force rocking the ground beneath her. When it roared, the whole air seemed to shake with the sound waves, a terrible clash of noises. There was a warning rumble before raging fire rushed out from its maws and Kallian tripped on the rocks, screaming as she felt the heat scorch her scalp and skin…_

Kallian's scream carried into reality and she bolted up in her bedroll. She sat there panting and shaking, drenched in sweat and fear. It had been so real… so real.

The elf braced her forehead against her hands, waiting for her breathing to slow. Images of the Darkspawn army were stamped into her mind- she couldn't blink them away. And the dragon…

How could they win this war? How could any of them hope to kill something like that?

It didn't make sense. It was _madness_!

"Bad dreams, huh?" came Alistair's voice.

A weak laugh escaped from her. "Yeah… a bad dream." _A bad dream…_

The other Warden pushed himself off the ground to join her by the fire, warming his hands. Kallian shivered involuntarily as she remembered the heat of the fire, the force of its roar…

"It's because of the taint, you know. It's part of being a Grey Warden- we're able to hear the Darkspawn. That's what your dream was. Hearing them."

Kallian wondered how many more _abilities_ Duncan had neglected to tell her.

"The Archdemon," continued Alistair, sighing. "It… 'talks' to the horde, and we feel it just as they do. That's why we know this is really a Blight."

The elf found her voice. "Good to know," she said hoarsely. Kallian swallowed. "The… Archdemon. Was that the dragon?"

Alistair shrugged. "I don't know if it's really a dragon, but it sure looks like one. But yeah, that's the Archdemon."

Kallian felt her heart plunge into ice cold water. "So… I'm stuck with these dreams until we kill it?"

 _If we ever do._

"It takes a bit, but eventually you can block the dreams out. Some of the older Grey Wardens say they can understand the Archdemon a bit. I sure can't."

Why anyone would ever want to, or listen to the Archdemon, she would never understand.

"Anyhow, when I heard you screaming and thrashing about, I thought I should tell you. My first time was scary too," said Alistair, giving her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. Then he quickly retracted his arm.

"Thanks… Alistair."

"That's what I'm here for," said the man cheerfully. "Delivering unpleasant news and witty one-liners."

Kallian laughed shakily.

"Well, I'm going to get some sleep. But I suggest you have some fresh air- it'll help. Keep watch with Leliana over there if you like." Alistair gave her one last comforting pat and moved to his tent.

He left her there, standing rock-like and subdued.

Kallian hugged herself, trying to suppress the occasional shivers. The night wasn't cold but the dream had left traces of raw emotion behind. She could still feel the panic freezing her insides at the sight of Darkspawn.

 _How can we win? How can we win?  
_

She gazed up at the starry sky, hoping for comfort. She found none.

Even the diamonds studded in the expanse were like the torches they held in the canyon. It brought back memories of the marching, the tremors underneath her boots.

Kallian brought her gaze back down to the fire in despair.

She tore her eyes away from the flames, which were another reminder of the dream. Instead, she settled on glancing at the only other person with her- Leliana.

Kallian hesitated, not trusting herself. But then… she knew she couldn't sleep tonight. And she couldn't bring herself to look at the fire.

The elf walked over to the lay sister, who looked up to see her approach.

"How's the watch going?"

Leliana looked like she wanted to ask about the dream. "It's going well. No Darkspawn, no wolves."

There was a hint of teasing in her voice but Kallian was too numb to respond.

"Well, that's good."

The sister tried again, looking down at her hands. "I… couldn't hear all of it, but it sounded like you had a bad dream. Something all Grey Wardens have."

Kallian sighed. "Yes."

When she didn't elaborate, Leliana eyed her cautiously. "Would you like to talk about it?"

The elf shrugged. "There's not much to it- just Darkspawn and the Archdemon." The last thing she wanted to do was frighten another person. She wasn't sure if she herself could stomach the magnitude of what they were up against.

"Oh… I see."

Kallian nearly jumped out of her skin when the sister laid a hand on her arm.

"Whatever it was, I hope you find peace in the knowledge that we are all fighting against the same thing. I am afraid also, but I know the Maker is with me. I believe He will be there with you, whether we walk towards success or failure."

The elf couldn't decide if these words were more reassuring or disheartening.

"Thank you."

"You are welcome. I cannot offer you more comfort than this, but I hope you see that you are not alone. And… to see that we are not as horrible as you think."

Kallian didn't need her to explain further to know who she was referring to.

"Humans," she said, surprised at how easily that word came to her lips. "Are people. That is my conclusion."

Leliana smiled in the firelight, understanding. Kallian relaxed in relief when the sister took her hand away. She felt a burning handprint on her arm.

The elf cleared her throat. "But speaking of dreams… can you tell me about your vision?"

Leliana hesitated, and Kallian knew she was wary of revealing it for fear of ridicule.

"I won't laugh," said Kallian in a gentler tone.

The sister seemed to gather some confidence from that. "I suppose I knew this would come up sooner or later." She sighed, staring into the fire. "I don't know how else to explain, but I had a dream…and in it, there was an impenetrable darkness."

Kallian swallowed- the sudden gravity in the sister's voice was almost palpable. And perhaps it was the darkness of the night that made everything seem so vivid…

"It was so dense. So real," Leliana was saying. "And there was a noise, a terrible, ungodly noise…"

Kallian remembered the roar of the dragon and the disturbance in the air.

"I stood on a peak and watched as the darkness consumed everything."

She recalled standing on the precipice as she watched the endless masses of Darkspawn, marching to ascend to the land of the living.

"And when the storm swallowed the last of the sun's light, I-"

Kallian looked up at the abrupt pause. Leliana's eyes looked haunted.

"I fell, and the darkness drew me in."

The elf tried not to show how much the vision had unsettled her. Maker… everything was scaring her tonight. "Interesting… but what made it different from other dreams for you to call it a vision?"

The other woman struggled for the right words. "I can't explain it… it was different, somehow. And when I woke, I went to the chantry gardens, as I always do. But that day, the rosebush in the corner had flowered. Everyone _knew_ that bush was dead. It was grey and twisted and gnarled- the ugliest thing you ever saw. But there it was- a single, beautiful rose."

Kallian listened silently, suddenly aware of what she was feeling. It was like a pull, an inexplicable gravitation towards those words. It was identical to what she felt the day they met in Lothering.

Despite the questionable nature of this 'vision', Kallian found that she was curious. There was an undeniable appeal, a sense of… rightness, or fate- for want of a better word- infused in her recount.

"And what do you think it meant?" she asked quietly.

"It was as if the Maker himself stretched out His hand to say: even in the midst of this darkness, there is hope and beauty. Have faith."

Kallian nodded, feeling a smile stretch against her will. This woman was so… so pure, untainted. She had thought Shianni was fragile. But this human was like… like a rare flower in the gardens, an oasis in the harsh barren lands of a desert, a treasure that should be preserved. Protected.

The elf stared into the flames, thinking about how far they had come. She thought about the shems she had killed and then considered her companions. It would still be a while before she could fully separate these groups from each other in her mind.

But somehow… she knew at that moment that she could trust this human. She could trust this human with her life. Kallian couldn't explain why this was- she just knew.

"You don't believe me," said the chantry sister quickly. "It's alright, I don't expect you to understand."

The elf blinked. "No, I… I believe you."

Leliana looked at her suspiciously. "Oh… you do?"

Kallian licked her dry lips. "Yes. I do. Maker… I don't know why, but I do," she said, half laughing.

The woman smiled then. "Thank you… that means a lot to me. No one… no one else does, I'm afraid," she said, the smile slipping.

"What about the chantry?"

Leliana hesitated, a flicker of something in her blue eyes. "Some of my chantry fellows were… condescending. That is the nature of religious folk, I suppose."

Kallian realized what she had read in her expression. Hurt. "What did they say to you?"

The woman sighed. "When I told them that the Maker reveals himself in the beauty of his world, they… treated me with disdain. They want to believe that he's gone, so that when he turns his gaze on them, it means they are special, chosen. He cannot possibly have love for all: the sick and the weary, the beggars and the fools."

The elf remained silent, thinking on these words.

When she returned her gaze to Leliana, the Chantry sister was staring at the ground. Weariness was etched into her posture. A veil of copper hair obscured her face, her shoulders were hunched and she held her hands in front as if ashamed of herself.

Kallian felt a pang of sympathy for her and she fumbled for the right words. Any words, really, to offer some measure of comfort. She wished to the Maker He had gifted her eloquence in speech.

The elf finally broke the silence. "Believe what feels right to you. It doesn't matter what others say. You know what you believe in, and that is enough."

Leliana lifted her head, regarding her a moment. Then her features smoothed out, a smile replacing the weariness. She nodded and gazed up at the night sky. "Thank you… and you are right. I _do_ know what I believe in and I can't allow others to sway me, or to make me doubt."

The elf nodded and slipped cold hands in her pockets, feeling the temperature drop with each second. She started when her fingers closed around the cold rim of metal. It was the bronze symbol of Andraste. She didn't really know why she had looted it from the chantry, but something had made her take it. And she suddenly knew why.

Kallian took it out and cleared her throat. "I… found this back in Lothering. Maker knows why I took it... but I think you should have it," she said, handing it to the sister shyly.

Leliana was surprised but delighted as she took it. When she looked up, her blue eyes were soft with emotion. "Thank you," she said sincerely. "This is a wonderful gift."

For the first time since Denerim, Kallian found her old self returning. She grinned up at the woman.

And the two stood side by side in the all-consuming darkness of the night, elf and human, talking quietly till the tip of the sun breached the horizon.


	9. Chapter 8: Realities of the Mind

**CHAPTER 8: Realities of the Mind**

The woman dragged herself across the blood painted floor.

Her right arm was limp from the injury but the left was enough for her to position herself. She had a common face. If Kallian had seen her walking around in a village, she would never have guessed this to be a blood mage. But then… what was she expecting one to look like?

Did she think these humans would look like Vaughan? Snarling and unrepentant?

"Please… please don't kill me," the mage begged.

Kallian looked down at her and, strangely enough, felt nothing. It was the second time a human had begged her for mercy.

"Why shouldn't I?"

The woman shook her head, expression pained. "I know I don't have the right to ask for mercy. But I didn't mean for this death and destruction. We were just trying to free ourselves."

It could have been a desperate attempt for sympathy. A pitiful excuse.

"Uldred told us that the Circle would support Loghain and he would help free us from the Chantry," the woman explained, closing her eyes. "You don't know what it was like living here. The Templars watching… _always_ watching."

Kallian suddenly felt her throat constrict. She was back in the Alienage, playing as a child. Even from that age, everyone knew how to be careful. The shems… they stood guard at the gates. Sometimes they came to patrol the streets. Watching. Always watching.

"You could have expressed your concerns to the Chantry," said Alistair from behind.

"And what would that achieve? Nothing. This is a game of power, Warden. We do what we are told, and that is the end of it."

 _You do what you're told to do, elf._

"The magic was a means to an end. It gave us… gave me the chance to fight for what I believed in."

At this, Wynne shook her head in sympathy. "Fighting for what you believe in is commendable, but the ends do not always justify the means."

The woman's eyes narrowed. "You don't really believe that, do you Wynne? Change rarely comes peacefully. Andraste waged war on the imperium- she didn't write them a strongly worded letter. She re shaped civilization, freed the slaves and gave us the Chantry. But people died for it…"

The older mage frowned. "The cost this time is not worth what you've done to this place."

The woman hung her head. "You are right. And now Uldred's gone mad and we are scattered, doomed to die at the hands of those who would right our wrongs…"

"You know we can't let a blood mage live," said Kallian quietly.

She lifted her head, eyes tearful. "But I… if you give me another chance, I could escape to the Chantry, seek penance- to atone for what I've done."

Alistair half laughed. "You know, they'll never take you. They're _very_ picky about who they let in. Harlots, murderers, yes. Malifecarum? Oh, no."

"I just want my life, please," sobbed the mage.

Kallian looked down at her wearily.

"Then you may have it. But we can't help you escape."

The mage stared up at her, hardly able to believe it. "Th-thank you! May the Maker turn His eyes to you for your mercy!"

The elf didn't reply- she walked out of the room with weighty steps, facing the corridors.

She reached the far end quickly, stepping over dead bodies and pieces of burnt parchment to come to the door. Kallian pushed it open and the seven of them ascended to the upper level. Talon was the first one up, bounding through the entrance to sniff out the nearest Darkspawn.

"Well, nothing to be done here," said Alistair, glancing at the corpses strewn across the room.

Kallian cast her eyes about for anything that was useful. Statues, bodies and books.

"Let's keep moving," she said, already heading for the door.

"I'm just going to-" started Alistair.

"Step back you fool!" shouted Morrigan.

Kallian whirled around to see the witch throwing a firebolt at the corpse. The Darkspawn clacked its teeth and slashed at Alistair, who was caught by surprise. All around the room, the corpses were rising up to join the fight.

 _Fenedhis,_ thought the elf in exasperation.

She charged with the others to engage the enemies, sighing. It was going to be a long day.

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Eyes were everywhere. Accusing, shaming, mocking, disgusted gazes.

Kallian walked through the muddy streets of the Alienage, sweat soaking through her clothes. She glanced about her wildly, heart hammering madly and breathing so fast she felt dizzy. Most of them were strangers; people she was distantly acquainted with and people she had seen walking about numerous times but had never talked to. Shopkeepers, merchants, smiths, tailors, students...

She saw Gethon and Dilwyn- her mother's friends. A glimmer of hope flared in Kallian when she saw them- which faded just as quickly as it had come. The pair looked away, deliberately ignoring her. Sharp pain shot through her chest.

Kallian didn't need anyone to confront her or tell her directly what all this hostility stemmed from. She knew. But she still clutched at the pathetic hope that this wasn't the reason. That she was wrong.

The elf finally arrived at home and opened the front door with shaking hands. When she turned around, her breathing just stopped altogether.

"I'm so sorry, cousin."

Kallian could only stare at Shianni as cold paralysis gripped her. Her eyes were functioning but she felt detached from them as they took in what few furniture they owned. If she could, she would turn back time. She would even take the mundane things she had been sick of all her life. Compared to what was happening right now, it would be a small sacrifice to make. The atmosphere in the room was so frosty her breath would rise up in a cold vapour if she exhaled. Cyrion was stock still and dangerously quiet, regarding her with an unreadable expression. Her cousins were standing there with him, but Kallian drew small comfort from this.

 _So it's finally happened,_ she thought with trepidation. _It's really happening..._

For years she had run away from this. For years she had constantly been looking over her shoulder, terrified anyone would find out. And there was no one else she had feared telling than her father. Today his face was particularly drawn and sunken, no doubt from some of the more distasteful, scathing criticizm he recieved at work.

But what she expected wasn't anger or hate. What she feared the most was the exact response her father was now giving her.

Cyrion's face finally exhibited the emotions he had been too numb to show- horror and despair.

And Kallian despaired with him, falling to her knees on the hard wooden floor. No one spoke for a while as Cyrion's arms swung limply by his sides.

"I want to hear it from you," he said quietly.

What more was there to say? How could she defend herself?

"There's nothing more to add," said Kallian hoarsely.

"So you don't deny it?"

"No."

"Maker," breathed her father, staggering. Shianni and Soris took his arms to steady him. He waved them away and stumbled over to the chair.

"Uncle..." started Shianni but Cyrion shook his head.

"Water," he said weakly. "I need water."

Her cousin fetched him a cup of water. The man took a long draught as if he had been parched for days. He placed it down on the table loudly, regarding his kneeling daughter with tired eyes. There was a long pause as her father reflected on this truth. He kept sighing heavily and shaking his head. All the while, Kallian stayed there feeling so numb she could die and she wouldn't feel a thing.

Finally, Cyrion spoke up. "Kallian."

His daughter didn't reply.

"There is no future for you here."

"I know."

"We will help you pack your things."

"What? Uncle, no!" cried Shianni.

"You can't-" began Soris, but Cyrion slammed his hand on the table.

"Yes I can!" he shouted, eyes flashing. Then he closed his eyes in pain. When he continued, his voice was quieter. "No more will be said about this. She cannot stay here."

"But-"

He ignored Shianni. "I will provide you with what money we have, to help you on your way," said her father, face set like stone. "Besides that, there is nothing more that can be done."

Kallian heard these words ring with dooming finality. And she realized there was no more running away. She had to face this.

"Tonight," she said emotionlessly, standing up. "I will leave tonight."

"K-Kallian," stammered Shianni.

At that moment, the door opened and someone entered. Kallian turned around to meet Nelaros.

"Is it true?" he asked, grey eyes accusing.

A bitter smile twisted her lips. "Yes."

"How could you?" said Nelaros, shaking his head angrily. "How could you marry me?"

Kallian looked away from those piercing grey eyes. "I'm sorry."

"That's all you have to say?" asked the other elf incredulously. "You let me believe that you... that you..." His face contorted in rage. "I hope the Darkspawn take you!"

Something suddenly jolted her. _Darkspawn..._

Kallian looked around her, frowning. There was something wrong with this... something she was missing...

And then it hit her- she shouldn't be here. She should have left for Highever with Nelaros on her wedding day. Kallian searched her memories to find out what the missing piece was. What was it? What _was it?_

"Kallian?" asked Shianni, concerned. But when Kallian turned to her, she stepped back in shock. The face flickered between Shianni and the grotesque face of a shade.

 _Maker!_

The elf backed away, drawing the dagger at her hip. But instead of the short blade, Kallian found herself holding a long sword. And then everything fell away and they were all standing on the barren wasteland of the Fade. The elves morphed into monsters that leered at her.

There was no time to think as they attacked. Kallian swung her sword in a wide arc, contacting flesh and bone. Blood splattered on her armour. She ducked and parried the Darkspawn's attacks. They lunged at her from all sides and she had to roll and dodge several times to avoid being clawed. With a few more powerful strikes, the Warden killed them all. She finished off with a stab to the Rage demon and slid her sword free. The bodies lay around her in the dirt, even more hideous in death.

Kallian stood there shaking as she recovered- both from the physical combat and the emotions she had been through. And when she did, she laughed. She laughed with tears in her eyes.

 _It was a dream,_ she thought, still laughing.

It had been so real. And yet, so flawed. She remembered everything now- Vaughn, the raping, Nelaros dead on the ground...

And now she was in the Fade, trapped in here by the sloth demon. Grim determination replaced the previous shock of the nightmare. Kallian cast her eyes about and saw the portal to the left.

 _I have to find the others._

Chances were, they would be trapped in dreams of their own.

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Kallian hurled the boulder at the thick barrier, taking it down. As soon as she crashed into the room, she was surrounded by Darkspawn. With her stony fists, Kallian slammed the ground. The violent tremors rocked the monsters off their feet and she wasted no time in pummelling the emissary. Once she squashed the Hurlock she swept the rest away effortlessly.

Kallian raised her massive arms and brought them down for another earthquake. She killed the remaining creatures within seconds. In her stone golem form, she raced through to the next room and charged the flaming demon. It took a few hits and quakes but she soon had it cornered. With one last smash, the demon died.

Everything grew taller again as Kallian shrank to her natural form.

She approached the Fade pedestal and took a deep breath before feeling the familiar rush of wind as it transported her. When she opened her eyes, Kallian saw Alistair talking to a woman in the distance.

"Hey! It's great to see you again! I was just thinking about you… isn't that a marvellous coincidence?" said the Warden as she drew near.

Kallian wanted to knock him out. She sighed. "We've got to get out of here, Alistair."

"Is this the friend you were talking about?" said the woman, giving her a smile.

Alistair brightened. "Kallian, this is my sister Goldanna." Then he gestured to invisible people beside her. "These are her children, and there's more about somewhere. We're one big happy family, at long last!"

The elf grimaced but felt a pang of sympathy for the Warden. _Maker, he must want a family that badly…_

She shook her head, drawing her sword and glaring at 'Goldanna'. "Get away from her, Alistair. She's a demon."

"Oh, that's what everyone says about relatives! But I've never been happier," he replied with a goofy grin.

"I'm overjoyed to have my little brother back! I'll never let him out of my sight again," said the demon, playing along.

Kallian rounded on Alistair, who had that grin plastered onto his face. "Alistair. Listen to me- where were you before this? How did you get here?"

The Warden frowned at her. "You're acting really strangely, you know."

"Just try to remember!"

"Oh, alright. If it makes you happy… it's all a bit hazy though." His brows furrowed. "No, wait… I remember a… tower. The Circle… it was under attack…. There were demons."

"Do you remember the sloth demon?"

"A-are you saying this is a dream? This isn't… real?"

"Of course it's real!" said the demon, scowling now. Then she quickly resumed her pleasant smiling. "Now wash up before supper and I'll-"

"Wait… this doesn't feel right," said Alistair, holding a hand to his head. "I… I think I have to go."

"No!" snarled the demon. "He was mine!"

'Goldanna' morphed into her true form, and Alistair gaped, drawing his own weapon. Skeletons came out of nowhere and converged on them. The elf swung her sword around with precise cuts, knowing that time was of the essence. She banged the demon in the face with her shield and together, she and Alistair decapitated the Darkspawn.

When they were finished, he stared down at the demon's body.

"I-I can't believe it. How did I not see this earlier?"

Kallian sheathed her weapon. "It probably did something to your head."

"Well, whatever it was," he said with a grimace. "I'm glad you're not Morrigan. She wouldn't give me a day's rest if she saw this happen."

Then both of them started in panic as Alistair glowed with light, fading into the air.

"Wait, where are you going? What's happening to me? Hey!"

"Alistair!"

But the Warden was gone.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Blessed art thou who exists in the sight of the Maker. Blessed art thou who seeks His forgiveness…"

Kallian felt a rush of relief as she ran to her.

"Leliana! Thank the Maker you're safe. What are you-"

The elder in chantry robes shot the elf a severe look. "Do not disturb the girl's meditations, please!"

The lay sister got up from her kneeling position. Kallian felt her stomach drop as she looked at her without recognition.

"Revered Mother, I do not know this person."

"Leliana… we're friends, remember?" said Kallian nervously, despite having seen Alistair in a similar state. At least he had recognized her.

"I'm… sorry," said the woman, a dubious look on her face. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Please do not vex her," said the Revered Mother. "She needs quiet and solitude, to calm her mind and heal her heart."

 _To heal her heart?_

Kallian frowned- there was certainly more to this woman than her life as a chantry sister. Once again, she found herself thinking about the way she held her blades, her easy charm and strange secrecy…

But it wasn't her place to find out. Since stumbling upon Alistair in the Fade, she felt like she was intruding on her friends' privacy.

She fixed the sister with a firm gaze. "Leliana, listen to me. This isn't real."

"Isn't… real?" she asked suspiciously. "I don't understand."

Kallian racked her brain for anything that could help her see the truth. Then she had an idea.

"Don't you remember why you left the cloister? You had a vision from the Maker."

"A… a vision?"

"Leliana," warned the 'Revered Mother'. "We have already discussed this 'sign' of yours. The Maker does not care to interfere in the affairs of mortals. This 'vision' was likely the work of demons."

Kallian scowled. "Don't listen to her," she hissed, drawing Leliana's attention. "Is that what you really believe? Because that's not what you told me at the camp the other night."

At this, there was a change in Leliana's gaze. She turned to the elder, eyes narrowed. "She's right. The Maker cares for us. I believe He misses His wayward as much as we miss Him. My Revered Mother knew this. I don't know who you are, but you are not her." Leliana turned back to Kallian. "Let us leave. My head has not… completely cleared yet but… there is something familiar about you and I… I believe I trust you."

Kallian nodded. "Brilliant, now let's go."

"You are going nowhere girl!" said the old woman.

The elf groaned as the two faced a shade. Leliana gave a startled cry and drew her daggers. Again, Kallian hacked at the creatures with her sword, adding to the layer of blood on her armour with each strike. With a few slashes and a stab to the throat, it collapsed on the ground.

"Right, now let's- wait, what's happening to me?"

The elf watched helplessly as the lay sister disappeared into the air like Alistair had.

 _Maker, what's going on?_

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Flemeth's face contorted with disdain as she regarded the mirror.

As Kallian approached, she had a brief glimpse of it- the frame was encrusted with gold, embedded with multifaceted gemstones that gleamed in the Fade light. To her shock, the woman flung the mirror on the ground, where it shattered to pieces. Kallian stopped in her tracks and stared at the pitiful remains. Morrigan stood there, also staring at the scattered shards. She bent down to pick one up. Kallian couldn't see the expression.

While her daughter knelt on the ground in silence, Flemeth shook her head.

"Have I taught you _nothing_ , girl?"

The witch still remained quiet but Kallian saw her fingers curl into a fist.

"Foolish. Very foolish," said the older woman dangerously. "Tell me: is this pretty bauble worth being discovered by humans? By those who would use your power?"

Morrigan finally stood up, eyes hard. "'Twas nothing but a little girl's fascination."

"Beauty and love are fleeting and have no meaning," said her mother. "Survival has meaning. Power has meaning."

"There was no harm done- I was not discovered."

"Are you more clever than your own dear mother? Surely such pride must be punished!"

The sharp sound pierced the air like the crack of a whip as Flemeth struck her daughter. Morrigan stumbled at the blow, but drew herself up tall and haughty. Her eyes narrowed.

"That is for not showing respect!" spat the older woman, shaking her finger.

To Kallian's surprise, Morrigan smiled coldly. "That is far more like it, but it is too little too late, spirit."

 _Thank goodness,_ thought the elf, running toward the witch.

Morrigan stiffened in surprise when she saw Kallian. Her eyes flashed dangerously but the expression was gone as soon as it came.

"'Tis you at last," said the witch bitterly. "Now make yourself useful and help me get rid of this vexatious creature."

The Warden nodded, drawing her sword.

"Oh, she doesn't even acknowledge her own mother!" sighed the spirit dramatically. "My heart, it breaks!"

Whatever spirit it was, it was doing a poor job of acting.

Morrigan hissed and glared at Kallian. "What are you waiting for? Slay it, and quickly!"

'Flemeth' cackled and revealed its true form. Kallian swung her sword but it evaded her, attacking Morrigan. The witch blasted it with fire and electricity.

Together, they cornered the demon and Kallian broke down its defences to plunge her blade into the abdomen. For a moment, there was silence as the spirit crumbled down to ashes.

The light on Morrigan's staff faded, leaving the air dim and cold again. Kallian looked at the ground to see the pieces of the mirror, but they had vanished, gone with the demon's demise. Morrigan also turned her gaze to the spot and her lips twisted into a poisonous grimace. Kallian watched her cautiously, thinking back to what Flemeth had said.

 _Survival has meaning. Power has meaning._

But before she could do anything, the witch began to dissolve in the air. Kallian met Morrigan's golden eyes and recognized something in them. The witch didn't protest or cry out. She simply let herself disappear, mouth taut with regret and bitterness.

And Kallian was left standing there staring at nothing.


	10. Chapter 9: At Least This Night

**CHAPTER 9: At Least This Night**

Talon barked madly at the pair as they walked, but neither of them noticed.

"And had you not jumped in at the last moment, I could have frozen the demon before the elf stepped into its trap!"

"Hey! I was only trying to-"

"Not to mention I had a tiring view of your thick skull all the way up."

"Now wait just a minute here-"

"We may have had a chance to plan an attack had you not barged in. But no, you could not resist flaunting your confidence in front of-"

"I-I did not-" spluttered Alistair, flushing furiously.

" _Enough_!"

Everyone jumped at the voice cutting through the night air. Even Morrigan blinked at Wynne, not expecting the woman to exhibit such austerity.

The mage sighed, lowering her tone. "That is quite enough. Uldred has been defeated and there is no more to say about what happened."

Morrigan crossed her arms to face her, eyes narrowed. "If we are to progress any further in this quest, we must examine the weak links in the chain. It is foolishness to think we can hope to accomplish anything otherwise."

"Oh, so I'm the _weak link_ in the chain now, am I?" demanded Alistair, fuming.

"Please, let's all calm down. Surely we can settle this another way," intervened Leliana, looking between them helplessly.

"There _is_ no other way, foolish girl!"

"Hey," said Kallian, stepping in. "There's no need to take it so far."

Wynne frowned. "You have a barbed tongue, Morrigan. Tell me, why do you speak to others this way?"

"I owe you no explanation," said the witch acidly.

"You are travelling with these people. It behoves you to be civil."

The witch's golden eyes flashed like lightning. "You are too transparent, old woman. I am not one of your Circle apprentices, to hang on your every word. I am not Alistair, who sees in you a surrogate mother."

"No, it's obvious you are nothing like Alistair."

"And for that, I am glad. Take your lectures elsewhere. They mean nothing to me."

The witch swept past them all and strode away, back stiff and haughty.

Kallian watched her go silently, remembering what she had seen in the Fade. She knew exactly what was ruffling the woman's feathers.

She was angry. Angry that she couldn't control the situation. To be specific, she was furious that Kallian had seen that aspect of her she had been striving to hide. That was the real underlying issue- arguing with Alistair was an excuse to vent her frustration.

Talon nudged her knee with his muzzle and stared up at her with worried eyes.

She smiled and patted him fondly. "It's alright, boy."

They all walked further along the path, weary and emotionally drained. It had been an exhausting day of fighting at the Circle Tower. But Kallian was just glad they all came out of it alive.

Two weeks ago she would have shrugged off the death of humans. But now, after coming close to dying multiple times with this motlety group of heroes, she realized they no longer felt like strangers. Were they her 'true brethren'? Was her mother right in saying this?

Kallian followed the others, locked in her contemplations. After walking for a while, they settled for a patch of land next to the path and set up camp. Kallian helped Sten chop wood and they soon had a fire going. As usual, the giant took his position silently away from the others- as did Morrigan. She had them make a separate fire near her tent and the elf saw her warming her hands.

Kallian shivered, suddenly feeling the chill seep in. Perhaps it was from encountering so many demons and Darkspawn, from going through the eerie realms of the Fade. Whatever it was, the air seemed colder than usual. She eyed her bedroll sceptically.

Since Talon had destroyed her tent, she had been forced to sleep outside. Arriving at Redcliffe, she had hoped to find someone who sold them, but every shop had been closed because of the Darkspawn. Alistair did offer to let her use his tent but Kallian had declined- if there was one thing she hated, it was being indebted to someone.

Speaking of Alistair…

Kallian looked over at the Warden, who sat dejectedly by the fire. She sighed and moved to sit by him.

"Hey."

He looked up. "Hey."

"You should get some sleep," she said, noticing the exhaustion on his face.

"I know, I probably should but…"

"You're thinking about what Morrigan said."

Alistair laughed humourlessly. "Is it that obvious?"

"Don't take it to heart," she said, picking up a stick and drawing on the ground. "She didn't mean it."

The other Warden smiled. "Oh, I get it. You're trying to make me feel better. It's alright, Kallian- I can handle it."

"No, really. She's… just upset."

Alistair sighed. "Kallian… you heard what she said. She said I'm the _weak link_ in this group. And frankly, she couldn't be more right. I _am_ the weak link."

She couldn't help it, Kallian laughed. Alistair blinked at her, looking a bit hurt. "Sorry…you just sounded so gloomy. Like a sad puppy."

"I'm not sure I like that comparison…"

"Well, it's not so bad. And you're not weak, Alistair. You got me here, through all of this."

At this, the Warden seemed to regain confidence. "I did?"

"Yeah," she said, punching his arm. "I used to hate humans, remember? Not to mention I nearly died at Ostagar…" Kallian grimaced at the memory.

Alistair smiled widely. "I did save you then, didn't I? I guess you owe me one."

The elf raised an eyebrow. "I saved your life as well."

"Well… alright," he said, sounding a little disappointed.

"You're a good man, Alistair. The dry jokes could use some improvement but... I think Duncan would be proud of you."

The other Warden beamed, looking pleased with himself. Then the smile faltered somewhat at the mention of Duncan.

"I hope so… I want to do my best as a Grey Warden."

Kallian nodded. "Same here."

A comfortable silence followed as both of them watched the fire crackling and the sparks jumping. Each of them was reliving different memories of the Rivaini man.

Then Kallian broke the silence. "How did you become a Warden?"

"Same way you did. You drink some blood, you choke on it and pass out. You haven't forgotten already, have you?"

The elf snorted. "Yes, very funny. Now answer the question."

"Let's see… I was in the Chantry before. I trained for many years to become a Templar, in fact. That's where I learned most of my skills."

Kallian blinked. "The _Chantry_? You don't seem like the religious sort. In fact, you're always telling Leliana not to convert you."

"Well, I'm not."

"Then why did you remain a Templar?"

"Have you seen their uniform? It's not only stylish but well-made. I'm a sucker for good tailoring."

Kallian laughed. "I suppose I should've expected it- the gelled up hair, the attention to fashion… you'd make a better girl than me."

"No thank you, I'm happy being a man."

"Alright. So how come I've never seen you wear it?" said Kallian,

"Oh, I keep it hidden under my pillow. Sometimes I'll take it out just so I can hug it fondly and remember the good old days." He sniffed. "Brings a tear to the eyes, you know?"

Kallian smirked. "And what were the good old days like?"

"Oh, you don't really want to know, do you? It's all quite boring."

"Then make it exciting."

"You know, I like the way you think. If you're really interested, I suppose there's no harm in obliging. But… the truth of the matter is, I did hate going to the monastery," said Alistair, his eyes suddenly turning gloomy. "The initiates from poor families thought I put on airs and the nobles ignored me for being a bastard son."

"That doesn't sound pleasant."

"No, it wasn't. I thought Arl Eamon had cast me off, unwanted. And I was determined to be bitter about it. But I took some solace from the training and… well, turns out I was actually good at it."

"Glad that worked out for you."

"Yes… me too. But enough about me- I'm sure you're bored to death by now. Do you consider the Alienage your home?"

Kallian stiffened at the mention of the Alienage. Alistair noticed and held up both hands. "Actually, forget I said that."

"No… it's alright," said the elf, taking a deep breath. "I did consider it my home. But now… I guess my home is with the Grey Wardens. I have a new duty, a new life."

"Oh. Is that really what you think? I… didn't know you felt that way," said Alistair, a tinge of hope colouring his voice. "You know… we won't always be travelling like this. Once the war is over, once the Blight is… well, a time will come when we'll have to think about a real home again."

"Assuming we survive," said Kallian grimly.

"Hey, don't lose hope. We'll make it out of this."

"Thanks for the encouragement."

"No problem. Besides… you helped me out of this sorry state today. It's the least I can do."

Kallian smiled.

"By the way," said Alistair. "Are you sure you don't want my tent? It's a really cold night…"

"Erm, no. I'm fine."

"No, that's not right," he said, shaking his head. "A girl shouldn't be sleeping out here."

Kallian raised an eyebrow. "Alistair, then _you_ would be sleeping outside."

"Better me than you… oh, I know! If you insist, why don't you share with Leliana?"

The elf groaned inwardly.

 _Maker, not again…_

"It's alright, I don't-"

"No, you're not getting out of this one. I'll be back."

Kallian watched helplessly as Alistair ran to the lay sister. The elf panicked, wanting to morph into a tree, a rock- for the Maker's sake, _anything_.

This couldn't be happening, especially not with a human- it wasn't just about her personal feelings on the matter. If her father found out… if _anyone_ at the Alienage found out... she swallowed and thought back to her nightmare in the Fade. Moreover, Kallian was sure she didn't… lean _that way_. She remembered the way the sister had talked to Alistair and the way she had convinced that Templar guard to help them…

It was clear where her interests lay, and Kallian didn't trust her heart not to be broken.

Alistair came panting to her at that moment, looking pleased with himself.

 _Kill me now._

"Come on now, onto your feet. The good sister said yes, and you need to get some sleep."

Kallian wanted to throttle him.

"Thank you," she said through her teeth. He missed the sarcasm.

"You're welcome," the other Warden said, beaming. "See you in the morning, then."

She tried to calm her breathing and picked up her bedroll, dragging her feet to the sister's tent. Her heart was thudding so loudly she could hear the blood rush past her ears. She drew near and jumped when the flap opened. Leliana poked her head out and saw her.

"There you are! Come in, it's cold outside."

 _Shit._

The elf nodded and entered the darkness of the tent.

"I've tried to make as much room for you as possible. But maybe we could push this aside," said the sister, bending down to move her pack.

"No that's… fine," said Kallian, spreading out the bedroll. "I don't need that much space."

"Oh, of course," said Leliana. "But it is easy for me to forget about your stature."

Kallian raised an eyebrow at this. "It is?"

The sister nodded, chuckling. "You have such a bold character- I almost forget you're an elf when you have your armour on."

Despite herself, Kallian felt immensely pleased about this. Then she berated herself for the thought.

Kallian quickly lowered herself to the bedroll and all but threw the blanket over herself. She turned to face the tent wall, heart pounding. For what seemed like hours, the elf lay in that position stiffly, refusing to move. All of her senses were heightened to the maximum level and she could see every detail on the tent wall.

Kallian gripped her blankets and clenched her jaws. She swallowed painfully and lay there battling with herself.

"Kallian?"

The elf froze.

"Are you asleep?"

"… No."

"Oh, that's good. I just wanted to say… it was kind of you to spare that woman's life at the Circle Tower."

Kallian relaxed a little. "It wasn't kindness. I did what I thought was right."

"Well… whatever it was, I am glad you did. I know it was hard for you."

"Thank you."

They both lapsed into an easy silence, though Kallian still wasn't completely calm about the situation.

Leliana broke the quiet. "I'm sorry to bother you again, but I was just wondering where you learned how to fight? I have never seen an elf use such a style. It's very graceful, so refined."

At this, Kallian felt a bone cracking ache in her chest. All the energy seemed to drain away from her. She turned to lie on her back and faced the ceiling.

 _She did tell me about her vision. I guess it's my turn…_

"From my mother."

"Your mother?" said the woman in surprise.

"Yes, she taught me everything she knew. Though… I had to keep this a secret."

"Why a secret?"

Kallian suddenly felt incredibly uncomfortable. "Well, because it wasn't… womanly. My father wanted me to marry and... it's not really approved of in the Alienage."

"Oh, I see," said the sister. "But you still trained."

"I did," said Kallian, smiling slightly at the memory. "My mother and I would spar whenever he was away."

There was a pause. "It sounds like the two of you were very close. She must miss you."

The elf felt her throat close up. "She… passed away."

"Oh! I'm so sorry…"

"It's alright. It was a while ago."

"If it is… any consolation, my own mother died when I was very young."

Now Kallian turned her head to see her. Leliana was lying on her back also, no doubt staring into some memory.

"What was she like?"

The sister shook her head sadly. "I was so young then, I don't have many memories of her. However, I recall standing in the gardens with her amidst the scents of sweet orange, lavender and… especially the scent of her grey linen dress. She kept dried flowers in her closet amongst her clothes- small white Ferelden wildflowers with a sweet fragrance." She frowned, thinking. "Yes, Mother called it Andraste's Grace. They were very rare in Orlais."

Kallian regarded her quietly. "It's a beautiful memory."

It was dark in the tent but her eyes could make out Leliana's smile. "Thank you. It is… one I cherish very much."

"It must have been difficult to leave your homeland then. How did you come to Ferelden?"

To her surprise, pain flickered across the woman's face briefly. "I… found myself in Ferelden, and sheltered from bad weather in the Chantry. And when the storm passed, I just… did not want to leave."

Kallian found herself becoming more and more curious to know this woman. "I heard that… in Orlais, minstrels are often spies."

Leliana stiffened suddenly.

"Where did you hear this?"

"Back in the Alienage, the Elder taught me history, among other things."

The sister eyed her cautiously but relented. "Not all minstrels are spies. Most are just singers and storytellers. But some of them… are what we call bards."

Kallian was confused. "What's the difference?"

"Bards are minstrels, and more. Spies, as you say."

"Ah."

The elf remembered what the sister had said about being a travelling minstrel, and this didn't quite fit…

 _She's a bard. Or… she used to be._

There was something in her past. Something she didn't want to share with anyone. And that made her all the more determined to know. Kallian sighed, frustrated with herself.

This was dangerous- as soon as they reached Redcliffe, she would have to purchase a tent.

"Well, whatever you used to be," she said, hoping to alleviate the woman's discomfort. "We're still happy to have you with us."

Kallian turned her head to see Leliana smile, and she felt a smile of her own stretching.

Then the sister seemed to hesitate before speaking again.

"I… have I ever told you I really like your hair?"

Kallian blinked at the non sequitur. "Um… my hair?"

"Mm hm. It's very nice, and simple. Not like the elaborate hairstyles we wore in Orlais. They involved flowers, ribbons, jewels… and one year, feathers were all the rage…"

The elf listened incredulously as Leliana recounted the story. She burst out laughing.

"What? That's ridiculous!"

"Yes, it was," said Leliana, laughing with her. "I don't envy the birds. She never washed her hair…"

Kallian made a disgusted noise, making the sister laugh harder. "Maker, what do you people do in Orlais?"

Leliana wiped the tears from her eyes. "Oh, we are not all like that. That was just one extreme example."

" _Very_ extreme," said Kallian. "But really, I don't know why you would like my hair. It's terrible. I… cut it with my dagger at Ostagar."

"Well you must have an eye for this," said the sister, reaching out to touch it. Kallian stiffened but Leliana didn't seem to notice. "It's endearing."

The elf cleared her throat, eyes shifty. "Thank you. Your hair is… very nice."

Leliana's smile widened. "Why thank you."

"It's sort of like my cousin's. She has red hair too."

"She does? That's a pleasant surprise."

Kallian grinned. "But I have to say… your personalities are quite different."

"Oh?"

"She's very feisty. And you're…"

"Yes?"

 _Adorable. Perfect._

"…er, very kind. Delicate," she said, sweating.

"Oh," replied the chantry sister.

Was it her imagination, or did she sound slightly disappointed?

Leliana gave her a quick smile. "Thank you. And… you're very kind too." Her expression was teasing. "I know there's someone soft under that hard exterior."

Kallian's face grew warm and she was glad it was dark in the tent. "I guess there is… but don't tell anyone."

"I shall keep your secret to the grave," said the sister. There was a brief pause before she spoke again. "You know… I'm glad we met. I feel… I feel so comfortable when I'm talking to you. Like I could say anything and you wouldn't judge me."

Kallian glanced at her seriously. "Why would anyone judge _you_? They'd be more likely to judge me. Or Morrigan."

Leliana giggled. "Oh, don't let her catch you saying that."

"I'll keep my distance."

The sister laughed, a glint in her eyes. And Kallian couldn't help but think that… she looked achingly beautiful tonight. Her blue eyes were bright, even in the darkness of the tent.

 _Damn,_ she thought, groaning inwardly. It was times like these when she wished elves didn't have superior night vision.

She listened helplessly, feeling herself surrender to this woman's charms as the two talked deep into the night. And through the middle of it, Kallian realized it was hopeless to fight against it. At least… at least this night, she would let herself enjoy being in her presence.

 _Forgive me, mother._

And eventually she fell into deep slumber, untroubled by the nightmares of Darkspawn.


	11. Chapter 10: A Room With A View

**CHAPTER 10: A Room with a View**

Morrigan scowled at the sun's brightness, preferring nothing more than the comfort of darkness. Because then she would be left alone.

Already the quiet of the camp had been broken, disturbed by the infuriatingly loud chatter of that rock headed dimwit. Morrigan hissed in irritation as he bragged about his days as a Templar to anyone who would listen. As usual, Wynne was his only willing audience.

A pleasant smell travelled to the witch, dampening her irritation somewhat. At least the Chantry girl was serving breakfast- she would never trust Alistair's cooking again.

 _Ferelden's best recipe? Ha!_

The recipe was nothing more than a few random ingredients thrown in together with meat, stewed until it resembled the waters of her swamp. Muddy and malodorous.

She sighed and grabbed a book from one of the heavy piles she had no choice but to lug around.

 _I suppose it is one of the results of this accursed quest._

She sighed again and, no sooner had she opened it than a shadow fell over her. The witch made a noise of exasperation.

"Is it not possible to have a moment's-"

It was the elf.

Morrigan clamped her mouth shut, golden eyes guarded. Ever since the Fade, she had the unbearably degrading impression she had lost her power. Knowledge was power, solitude was power. Friendship was a ridiculous and unnecessary attachment that humans clung to like children begging for treats.

And the Warden had glimpsed into a part of her life she would gladly burn to ashes. Magic had alerted her to the spirit's effects and she had been able to suppress the worst of her memories- but not that particular one, it seemed.

" _Yes_?"

Kallian sat down next to her and the witch grimaced.

It was not that she did not trust the girl- on the contrary, she was far more reliable than the idiot. Even if she was brought up in that disgusting hovel, her education belied the witch's usual opinion of city elves- typically submissive, lacking a backbone. And she had nothing to say against the girl's leadership.

However… that did _not_ mean Morrigan was about to spill her life story to this elf.

"How are you feeling?"

 _Now what ruse is this?_

"If you are referring to what happened last night, be assured that it is nothing to me. I simply said what was needed to be said… and that is that."

Kallian shrugged. "Fair enough. I don't agree with everything you said… but I think you're doing the best you can."

Morrigan eyed her suspiciously but replied civilly. "Thank you."

The elf smiled slightly. "But I do agree with what you said about re-examining ourselves."

"Indeed?" the witch asked, even more suspicious now.

"After what happened at the tower… you're right- we need a battle plan. We can't just charge into a fight anymore. As you pointed out- Alistair was blocking your way most of the time. And sometimes, I don't even know who's going to do what."

Morrigan smiled. "Well, that is certainly the most rational answer I have heard so far."

A crooked smile appeared on Kallian's face. "Thanks." She paused and shrugged. "Look, I know this can be a dysfunctional group but… let's try to keep the peace. You should relax more, neutralize your tone. People will listen to you."

"If I wasted my energy on meaningless courtesy when there are problems to be addressed and work to be done…"

Kallian studied her for a few seconds before rummaging in her pack. The witch narrowed her eyes. "Well, if that won't convince you…" The elf held out something black and heavy to her. "I found this at the Circle To-"

But the witch had already snatched it from her grasp. "This is… this is mother's grimoire!"

The elf looked surprised at her reaction but quickly recovered. "I take it that you needed it?"

"Indeed, I did, but…"

"I thought you might appreciate it."

The witch looked at her incredulously.

"Well, I am glad you were able to find it… my thanks for retrieving it," she said seriously. Then she turned her golden eyes on the leather bound book again, beside herself with delight. Oh, the secrets, the knowledge- wonderful knowledge! "I shall begin studying it immediately and unlock the power that it holds!"

Kallian smiled and nodded. "Well then, is this enough to persuade you to-"

"Yes, yes," said Morrigan impatiently, sighing. It was a small price to pay. "I shall heed your words of advice."

"Brilliant," said the elf, standing up. And with that, she walked away towards the pot.

 _What? No mention of what happened in the Fade?_

Morrigan wondered if the girl was waiting for the right moment, the right opportunity to use it against her. Perhaps.

But no matter, she had retrieved the very thing she had been searching for. Something her mother had spent her whole life keeping her daughter from touching.

The witch glanced at the elf again. Now that she considered it, the elf had changed these past few weeks in more ways than one. Morrigan preferred the former reticence… but if this change had prompted her to find the grimoire, she could not complain.

She shook herself. All this pointless wondering and thoughts about emotions and friendship were distracting her from the real task. With newfound enthusiasm, Morrigan buried her nose in the grimoire and studied vigorously for the next few minutes.

"Breakfast, everyone!" called Alistair.

The very sound of his voice grated on her nerves.

 _No matter, as long as the chantry girl's food is satisfactory…_

She stood and walked over to receive her meal. As she drew near, she glared at the Warden's back.

"So did you sleep well Kallian?" he asked the elf.

"Yeah. No nightmare, no Archdemon."

"Excellent! See, I was right to help you out. The weather can really have an effect, you know."

 _Now what is this I'm hearing?_ Then Morrigan shook her head. _No, 'tis not even worth my time._

"It's good that there are other women in the group," continued Alistair. "I mean, obviously the witch would _never_ be as nice as Leliana."

Morrigan snorted. _Clearly he wanted me to listen._

"My dear, you could have asked me if you wished to," said Wynne, coming to take a seat.

"I did come to ask but you were already asleep…"

"Ah, I see. I'm afraid my body is not what it was years ago. I must have fallen asleep quite early. It's very kind of you to do this for Kallian, Alistair," said the old woman, smiling.

The witch nearly dropped the bowl Leliana was handing to her. _Kind?_ She almost laughed out loud. The woman must certainly be old if she could not see the motive behind the man's actions. Even Morrigan had noticed the painfully obvious advances he was making towards the elf. It was rather amusing, actually. She enjoyed seeing how oblivious the elf was and how futile Alistair's attempts were.

The man beamed. "It was nothing. Besides, I'd like to think I created a new friendship. Nothing like sharing a tent to build connections."

 _Sharing a tent?_

Ah yes, the girl's dog had ripped her tent prior to Redcliffe. Morrigan almost felt sorry for the elf- it must have been a nightmare to stomach the ramblings of the chantry girl.

"What were you two talking about anyway?" asked Alistair, walking away from Leliana with his bowl. "I could hear you giggling and laughing from my own tent."

"Just… things."

Morrigan's eyes narrowed as she took in the faint blush on the elf's pale cheeks.

"Oh, I see- girl talk, is it? Don't worry then, I won't press you."

The witch nearly spilled her meal again when something wet nudged her. She looked down in disgust.

Talon stared at her with those ridiculously pleading eyes.

"Stop looking at me, mongrel. I have nothing you want!"

The Mabari whined.

"Why do you keep staring at me so, you flea-ridden beast! Can you not tell when you are not wanted?"

Clearly, it couldn't.

"Come on, boy. Stop bothering Morrigan," said Kallian, walking over. She gave the witch an apologetic look and pulled him away.

 _Good riddance._

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"You there, have you seen my son?" asked the man.

Morrigan took in his rich doublet and the self-importance etched into his posture. She assumed this was the Arl.

The man looked panicked and wild. "I can… I can hear him but I cannot find him. This blasted fog has me turning in circles."

The witch sighed. Once again, she was left with the onerous task of explaining such simple facts to ignorant fools. "This is the Fade. Your kind cannot navigate it anymore than you can navigate a dream."

"I don't understand. Where is my Connor?"

 _Lovely._

"I will find him for you, since I _foolishly_ gave my word that I would. Leave me to it."

And she hurried along the path toward the dark portal, leaving him still crying out for his son.

The witch stepped through it to emerge on a similar path leading up to a hill. She could make out a small figure at the top.

 _That must be the boy._

Sure enough, the boy Connor was standing at the top of the slope. Considering the demon's welcome they had received, she was not expecting manners. But she did not expect the outright insolence of the boy.

"Who are you?" he demanded, glaring. "Are you the one that made father ill?"

"Shoo," the witch replied, trying to keep her voice pleasant. "Run along and play!"

"No! You're here to hurt father, I know it! I won't let you!"

Then the demon showed itself.

Morrigan charged up a spell, the orb on her staff glowing. She fired bolts of magic successively and watched with satisfaction as the demon weakened. She gave one last burn and it vanished into thin air.

 _Too easy._

But she knew it was not over. Morrigan ran down the slope to follow the path, past strange trees, pillars and structures that seemed to be composed of a material similar to bone. She entered the next portal and found the boy again. The demon revealed itself and she sighed, hurling fire and ice at it. And if that was not enough, a Rage Demon appeared out of nowhere.

She froze it quickly and killed it with a few blasts of ice.

After that, she continued down the path to the last portal, stepping out into a small area with the demon in the centre.

The demon eyed her warily as she approached.

"Very well. No more illusions. You see my true form and stand in my domain. But I have no wish to engage your power, nor should you be so eager to engage mine. Perhaps, we should converse?"

Morrigan let out an incredulous laugh. "Do you take me for a fool? I know better than to bargain with your kind!"

"Very well then, if you wish a battle… you will have it!"

The witch braced herself as the demon attacked, shielding herself with a ward. She took the chance to strike her with electricity, satisfied when it staggered, stunned. Morrigan sent a blizzard of ice crystals toward it and the demon cried out. Then it scowled and disappeared, re appearing as four identical demons.

 _Interesting…_

The witch hurled blasts of magic at three of them in quick succession. There was a shriek of disappointment and the demon vanished again. Morrigan waited for it to reveal itself.

It re appeared to her left and the witch rolled forward to avoid a vicious swipe.

She stood and followed through with a stab at the demon's sternum with the tip of her staff. After catching it off balance, Morrigan cast the next spell and it erupted into flames. The demon screamed in pain and disintegrated on the spot.

Morrigan straightened and smiled in satisfaction.

 _And so my work here is done._

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Leliana sat by the windowsill, looking down at the cobbled courtyard, enjoying this rare moment of safety and peace. Morrigan's success in the Fade had taken care of the immediate issue, earning them the favour of the Arlessa. It would still be some days before they departed again.

The wind was a pleasant, salty breeze and the sky a liquid blue. She inhaled the cleansing scent from the sea, mingled with… a new fragrance she had long forgotten.

The sister felt her lips stretch into a smile. A true smile- not a necessity, not a weapon to be used, but something natural. Just as flowers bloomed in spring, or as natural as the waves rolling in to the shore.

She hadn't smiled like this since leaving Ferelden. No, not since-

Leliana closed her eyes as the emotions knifed through her chest without warning. She tried to push it down, but it was no use. The best she could do was to dull the edges to an ache.

 _Why do I still feel like this? It has been… so long._

But she knew why. The final blow had been unbearably brutal, ripping past her defences and allowing her to see the vulnerability in herself. She had thought she had mastered the Game. That nothing could surprise her. Oh, how wrong she had been. And the memories were persistent, striking through gaps in her defence when she least expected it. She hadn't told anyone but they hounded her at night in her dreams. She saw the kind face of Sketch, Tug's staring face in the dungeons, and Marjolaine's last beautiful smile as she handed Leliana over to the guards.

It sickened her.

Over and over again, she told herself she had been young. That she didn't know better. But it was more than that… she had let herself fall in love. And she couldn't forgive herself for not seeing through it. It had cost her dearly. Leliana saw the images infiltrating her mind and gave up, surrendering to the memories rolling in. Once again, she was standing in the courtyard of the Arl's estate…

 _Urgent ringing hammered in her ears as Leliana ran to meet Marjolaine. It was cold, and the constant sound matched the thumping of her own heart._

 _This was wrong. This was all very wrong._

 _But the sight of her lover approaching made her limbs relax a little._

" _Marjolaine, I fought as many as I could! But there must be more," she said, voice betraying her worry._

 _The woman smiled her dazzling smile. She reached out and caressed the bard's cheek, shaking her head. "It's_ alright _, my pretty thing."_

 _Then she paced slowly around Leliana, as cool and composed as ever._

 _But Leliana wasn't done. "We can tell them about the papers. There must be an embassy. Orlais can petition," she suggested desperately._

There must be another way, _she thought._ We can't afford to start another war.

 _Marjolaine leaned in to her ear from behind. "Shh, my pretty thing. Shh." Leliana shivered at the bardmaster's rich, silky voice._

How can she be so calm at a time like this?

 _A terrible image of Marjolaine's limp form on the gallows flashed in her mind. No! She couldn't let it come to that._

" _Our plan will work, won't it?"_

 _The woman's sculpted lips stretched into a knowing smile. "I have a way out, yes."_

 _Leliana gave a shuddering gasp as the knife was thrust into her, blood pouring out freely. She was so stunned she was momentarily unaware of the excruciating pain ripping through her torso. The bard choked as she saw Marjolaine walking away leisurely._

 _Then the sensations came crashing down and she collapsed to her knees, gripping the handle with a shaking hand. A cry of agony burst from her throat as she wrenched it out. The weapon clattered onto the stones._

 _Leliana knelt there, her vision flickering as the pain consumed her. She swayed and gasped, barely able to breathe. It was so intense she was waiting to lose consciousness._

 _Only one thought came to mind._ Why?

" _Well, well, well," came a sneering voice. "An Orlesian spy, caught with her hands on hard- won Ferelden intelligence. You'll be worth a pretty sum."_

 _Leliana tried to lift her head, breathing ragged and fast. A stocky man with cruel eyes lowered himself to her level._

" _Once we've had our fun, of course," he said with a lecherous smile. He jerked his head, signalling to another soldier._

 _Leliana caught a glimpse of an armoured fist hurtling towards her face before the world exploded into pain._

 _Everything went black._

That was the last she ever saw of Marjolaine. No explanation and no goodbyes. She was left in the dungeons to rot and die. And Leliana had lost her heart after that- she left it behind in Orlais.

Mother Dorothea had taken her in and the Chantry became her refuge.

But aside from the Revered Mother, she had never let in anyone to her heart. If it was ever anything, it was a game to her- a charming smile and a few well-chosen words and she could have her way. After all… she had learned from the best. Leliana turned her eyes back to the courtyard again and her gaze lingered on the wild form in the training grounds.

Kallian.

The Warden was landing furious blows on the dummy, twisting and smashing it, dark hair flying. It was like she was possessed- so focussed, so intent. Even when they were trading jokes and speaking of meaningless things, there was always a certain gravity about her. Her dark eyes were at times unreadable, sometimes intelligent, beyond her age. Other times…

Leliana thought about last night when the elf came to visit her. The bard had been overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness of the gesture. She had mentioned it once amongst the many things they talked about and she would have thought it buried under everything else.

But the elf had remembered. And when she had thanked Kallian for it, she recalled the way those dark eyes warmed- if that were even possible. They were so warm and transparent she felt it seep into her and spread all over.

What did it mean?

Leliana felt closer to this elf than anyone she had ever met.

" _Believe what feels right to you. It doesn't matter what others say. You know what you believe in, and that is enough."_

These words had given her more strength than she admitted to herself. A comfort she could not explain. She needed this certainty in her spirit to keep believing. The bard fingered the symbol of Andraste hanging around her neck, thinking. At first, the elf had been so cold and intimidating that Leliana never imagined she would befriend her. Hostile and cold hearted, she had thought. But she recalled the time she helped pitch Leliana's tent, her apology and then the two gifts… there really was someone else under the surface.

Not for the first time, she wondered what had happened in Denerim.

The bard sat there for a long time, bathed in the scent of Andraste's Grace, watching the Warden train down below. Finally, Kallian seemed to have finished. She stopped, wiping the sweat off her forehead and gazing up at the sky. When she turned her eyes toward the castle, Leliana jumped away from the window.

After a while, she returned to it and saw that Kallian was gone. She let out a breath and shook her head. What was wrong with her? It wasn't like she was hiding anything.

 _You were spying on her_ , a voice told her.

 _No,_ argued Leliana. _I was watching her train._

 _That is called spying._

The bard sighed and waved the thoughts aside. Again she gazed out the opening to face the comforting breeze. She was so absorbed in her observations that she didn't realize that the ache in her chest was gone.


	12. Chapter 11: Complications

**Chapter 11: Complications**

Kallian threw the wood into the fire violently, still glaring at the other elf. Alistair jumped and looked up from carving the figurine in his hand. Even in the thick darkness, Kallian could see the wide smile Zevran was flashing Leliana. And what infuriated her the most was that the bard was playing right along with him. Her laughter travelled across the whole camp. Kallian grimaced as she watched the bard smile coyly at him, lapping up his flattery.

Fuming, the elf sat down next to Alistair. She took out her sword and whetstone, determined to tear her focus away from the laughing pair.

"What's wrong?" asked the other Warden in concern. "Did Zevran say something to you?"

Kallian snorted. If only he knew…

"He's said lots of things to me. I don't care."

"If he's said something lewd to you-" said Alistair, narrowing his eyes and starting to stand.

She stopped the sharpening and grabbed his arm, pulling him down.

"I told you it's nothing," she growled. The last thing she wanted to do was make a scene for no reason. "Just… he gets on my nerves."

Her friend sat down reluctantly, still eyeing the assassin darkly. "Well, if he tries to pull something on you, let me know."

Kallian sighed and returned to scraping the stone along her blade loudly. "That won't happen. Trust me."

Alistair shook his head insistently. "He's an assassin… and a womanizer. There's no telling what he'll do."

"I'll kill him before he does."

The other Warden finally laughed. "I suppose I'm worrying too much."

"I can handle myself, Alistair," she said, smirking despite herself.

"I don't doubt that," he said with another chuckle. Then he squinted at what she was doing. "Here," he said, taking the whetstone from her. "Give me that- you're going to overdo it at this rate."

To be honest, she wasn't really putting any thought into it- her only aim was to block out the flirting going on a few yards away.

"I can do it, Ali-"

But he had already taken the sword from her and was dragging the whetstone along it carefully. Kallian grimaced but let him do it. There was another melodic laugh from the left. She ground her teeth together, resisting the urge to turn her rigid neck. Alistair tutted and paused the sharpening.

"We need to get you a new sword. This is becoming rusty and weak."

The elf nodded, thankful for the distraction. "I couldn't find any with the right balance."

"Well," said Alistair, using the whetstone again. "We could request a specific design to Owen when we return to Redcliffe."

"That's going to take a while," said Kallian, frowning doubtfully.

He nodded. "Yes, it will. But it's better than going into battle with a sword unsuited for you."

"True…"

"Besides, they have mages that will speed up the process."

"I hope they do- we need to leave for Orzammar soon."

"Yeah," agreed Alistair, shaking his head. "I didn't expect to find Redcliffe in such a mess."

"Maker take me if we have more complications at our next destination," muttered Kallian.

"The dwarves can be a stubborn people, but they will answer to the Wardens. Don't worry about that."

The elf sighed and nodded, taking up a stick and drawing on the ground absent mindedly. For a while, both of them sat there with their respective tasks. Alistair finally finished the sharpening and held the sword up to the firelight. He made a sound of satisfaction and smiled, handing it to her. She took it.

"Thanks."

"No problem," he said cheerfully. "It was nothing."

The blade was still in a pitiful condition but she supposed it would do. At least it was sharp enough now. As she turned the blade over in her hand, Alistair laughed.

"Wow, did you draw that?" he asked, pointing to the ground.

Kallian glanced down. "Mm."

"That's pretty good," said Alistair, coming closer to examine it. He laughed again. "Looks exactly like Talon. I feel like he could jump out at us right now."

An involuntary chuckle escaped her lips. "Thanks." Then her gaze settled on the figurine he was working on. "What's that?"

"Oh, this?" he said, picking it up. She took it from him and laughed.

"What the hell?" she said, grinning.

Alistair shrugged and looked shy. "I was going to give it to you later but…"

Kallian examined it from different angles, smirking. "Thanks. But… I don't really look like this, do I? My ears aren't this pointy…"

He looked embarrassed. "Are they too pointy? I knew it! I could carve it down, make it better-"

"Only kidding, Alistair," she said, punching his arm.

"Oh," he said, blushing.

"It's good, Alistair. You have talent."

The other Warden beamed at this.

Kallian grinned and placed it next to her, but paused as a disturbing thought occurred to her. She had accepted it without question, assuming it was just a friendly gift. But… did friends usually give each other these things?

The elf shook herself, rolling her eyes. She was reading too much into it.

"What's your next project?"

Alistair cocked his head, thinking. "Hmm… I was thinking…" He leaned in to whisper. "Maybe the witch."

Kallian chuckled. "It's not going to be flattering, is it?"

"Darn right," he said with a wicked smile.

"Tell me when you finish it. I want to see her expression," said Kallian, grinning.

"You'll be the first," promised Alistair.

The elf laughed.

"Ohh," said Alistair after a moment's thought. "Do you think she would suit googly eyes?"

"Yeah, she could do without the glare."

"And I think I'll replace that staff with a broomstick."

The two snickered and grinned stupidly as they discussed ideas for the caricature. Kallian wiped the tears from her eyes and listened to Alistair's dry jokes, feeling her previous foul mood dissipate. The human wasn't Soris, but it was times like this when she needed a good laugh. They were both so absorbed in the conversation that they didn't notice the person joining them by the fire.

"What are you two laughing about?"

The grin slipped from Kallian's face.

"Ohh, I don't know if I should tell you," said Alistair with a smile.

Leliana raised an eyebrow curiously, smiling. "A secret, is it?"

He nodded. "Well, if you keep it from Morrigan…"

"Oh," said the bard, eyes glinting wickedly. "I get it," she said, lowering herself next to Kallian.

The elf caught a whiff of Andraste's Grace and stiffened.

"I've got a few more tricks up my sleeve," said Alistair eagerly. "But this will be the first."

Leliana laughed but the expression quickly vanished when her hand contacted something in the dark. "What's this?"

Kallian's eyes widened when she saw the figurine in the bard's hands.

Leliana held it up to the light, blinking at the wooden statuette of Kallian. In the fire's glow it looked almost ethereal, accentuating her hair and form so much it filled her with embarrassment. Maker… now that she examined it again, Alistair had put a lot of effort into it.

"It looks very much like… Kallian," the bard said in surprise.

"Um…" said Alistair uncomfortably. "That's because it is."

"Oh?" asked Leliana in a strangely quiet voice. "Did you make it, Alistair?"

"Well," he started, rubbing the back of his neck. "She's been a bit gloomy lately so…"

The bard stared at the carving, expression unreadable. Kallian held out her hand and the woman placed it back in her hand.

"And you thought this would cheer her up?"

Alistair nodded, smiling awkwardly. "Exactly."

Kallian squirmed uncomfortably. Maker, what was this atmosphere?

"How… thoughtful of you."

Alistair grinned. "It was, wasn't it?"

"Do you make these figurines often?"

"Yep," said Alistair.

"What have you made so far?" asked the bard, warming her hands over the fire.

"Hmm… I've made quite a few, actually. Usually they're dragons, rams, druffalos... I made one of Andraste, a Templar and now Kallian."

"I see."

"Do you want one?"

"Thank you for the offer, but that's alright," said the bard, smiling.

Kallian couldn't take it anymore. The two had left no room for her to join in and something about this left her writhing inside. She cleared her throat. "So. What were you saying before, Alistair?"

A cheeky grin spread on Alistair's face, reminding her painfully of Soris as he dove into an enthusiastic explanation of his plans for revenge. Kallian tried to listen but the fragrance wafting to her was driving her crazy.

 _Maker, I'm starting to regret giving her the flower…_

And to make it worse, Leliana was so close to her she could feel the heat of her body. Kallian slowly and subtly inched away from her. Every muscle tensed, charging up for a quick escape.

"Kallian?"

Alistair was looking at her funny.

Kallian's head snapped up, eyes focussing. "Yeah?"

"You alright? You don't look too good."

The elf bit the inside of her cheek. _Actually, this might be a good chance…_

"Yeah," she said quickly. "I've got a bit of a headache."

Leliana frowned. "It could be the cold. There's been more than one person coming down with the fever lately."

The elf jumped when the sister placed a cool hand on her forehead.

"Hmm. You don't seem to have a temperature."

"Whatever it is," said Alistair. "You should go to sleep early."

Kallian stood up, nodding. She didn't look at Leliana before practically fleeing to her tent. The elf gritted her teeth, hating herself. In the darkness of the night, she could almost feel eyes watching her- just as they had back in the Fade.

 _Shit,_ she thought helplessly. _Shit, shit, shit._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was bitingly cold on the mountains, with bare rocks and dark pines decorating its rugged slopes. Their boots crunched on the occasional snow coating the ground. Kallian scanned the village, which was a rough assortment of houses, the designs careless and basic. A fog had settled over the area, lending an eerie, ghostly atmosphere.

There was no sound. Not one person could be seen, despite it being early in the day.

"This place is _very_ unsettling," said Zevran, chuckling nervously.

Alistair frowned and shook his head. "I wonder why no one's here. I don't like the feeling of this."

"Well we have to find someone," said Kallian. "Split up and search the area. Meet back here when you've found something."

The group dispersed to explore the buildings and she turned to the nearest house with Talon. To her surprise, the door was unlocked. It turned out to be unoccupied, but the furniture, the decorations and possessions were still there. She moved on to the next house and found it much the same- clean with signs of habitation. As she stepped out of the building, she saw Zevran step out of another.

"Any luck?"

He shook his head. "Quite empty. All their things still remain, but no owner."

"Same here."

The two approached a house that stood out from the rest. It was larger and seemed to her like some sort of townhouse. She gripped the handle and tried to twist it.

"Locked," she said, sighing.

"Ah, but you forget that I am an assassin," said Zevran. "Allow me."

Kallian raised an eyebrow and stepped aside to watch him pick the lock. After a few seconds of "hm"'s and "ah"'s, there was a satisfying click. The other elf opened the door and gave her a small bow and a flourish.

"After you," he said with a wide smile, flashing his teeth.

Kallian fixed her eyes on him, unimpressed. Recruiting him had been one thing, trusting him was another. "I think you should go first. You never know when a knife will strike from behind."

Zevran put a hand to his heart, feigning hurt. "Oh, you wound me. But I suppose I would rather take the sharp words of a lovely woman than none."

The Warden jerked her head in the direction of the house. He walked in and she joined him inside. In the centre there was a long table- most likely used for meetings. A large fireplace was built into the wall in the corner, the burnt wood and ashes perhaps a week old. There were stairs leading up to the next floor. Kallian cast her eyes about. A chest, a shelf, chairs… Talon started to sniff at something leaning against the wall.

"My, this is… interesting."

It was an altar with a bronze lamp on top, the surface stained with old, dried blood. Another pool of crimson dripped down the edges, looking more recent than the dark stains. The two exchanged glances and examined it once more before checking the rest of the room.

Upstairs there was nothing significant either.

They came downstairs again and she grimaced at the sight of the altar. Kallian shuddered and averted her gaze.

"So, what does it take to become an assassin?" she asked, trying not to think about the altar.

"Ah, interested, are you?" said Zevran in a suggestive tone.

"I'm interested in how they turned a young, innocent elf into such a lecherous assassin."

Zevran laughed. "Very well… despite what the Crows would have you believe- that it is a long process that involves years of training, the truth is that all it requires is a desire to kill people for a living."

"I would never have guessed."

"Sarcasm does not become you, my dear Warden. A voice such as yours should sing the melodies of-"

"Spare me the flattery."

"I must confess this is not quite what I am used to… the ladies usually delight at such admiration."

"In Antiva, you mean."

"Well-"

"If you think that will impress women, think again." She eyed him with disgust. "I can't believe we're of the same race."

"Such venomous words, my lady," tutted Zevran, unaffected. "But you must understand… it is a hard life as an assassin. A man has his needs… and he must be skilled in the art of wooing to enjoy what few... pleasures are offered."

Kallian bristled and her dagger was at his throat before he could respond.

" _Pleasures?_ "

The assassin didn't flinch. "I see I have offended you."

"A woman's body is not for your pleasure," she spat. "It should be respected. Honoured."

"Of course," insisted the other elf, chuckling. "I believe the same as you."

"Then show some decency," she said, glaring at him for a moment before retracting the blade.

He rubbed his throat. "My apologies, boss."

Kallian didn't reply, brushing past him in a dark mood. Talking about these things had brought back memories she didn't want to see again. Human or elf, it didn't matter. It filled her with nausea and loathing. She could almost feel the blood of that night on her hands, the foreboding chill of the room and the horror at seeing Shianni's bloodless face…

Zevran chuckled, following her. "But I do wonder… is it charm you prefer? Or is it perhaps a more stoic, grounded man you desire?"

Kallian ignored him as she strode toward the rendezvous point.

"An elf, no? Or… a human?" he asked, walking backwards to see her face.

A wide grin spread when he saw her blush. "Ah, I have guessed correctly!"

"Shut up and follow."

But Zevran was delighted, determined to question her. "Ah, that blush. It speaks of a new love, does it not? Let me guess- someone from our dear companions?"

Kallian glared at him. "Do you have nothing better to do?"

"Come, tell me."

Kallian reached out and grabbed the front of his armour. " _Shut. Up_ ," she hissed, and let him go.

"Oh, such a fiery temper!" he said, pretending to quail. "But you should know- I will find out sooner or later."

The Warden gritted her teeth. "Maybe I should have killed you."

"Ah, but you would not have such a delightful companion," said the elf smoothly. "In fact, I could help you in your… romantic endeavours."

"I don't want your help."

"So you _do_ admit to fancying someone."

"I never said that."

"You said you didn't _want_ my help, not that you didn't _need_ it."

"I don't want it because I don't need it."

"Suit yourself," said Zevran, chuckling. "If you wish to remain in denial."

"I'm not-"

"Find anything?" came Alistair's voice.

Kallian turned to him and nodded. "But we'll talk when everyone comes back."

After a few minutes, the group reconvened but their searches were as unyielding as hers. When Zevran mentioned the altar, their responses mirrored her own.

"I hope it wasn't…" said Leliana, her voice trailing off. Everyone knew what she meant.

"Used for food preparation, perhaps?" suggested Alistair.

Kallian shook her head. "I don't think meat bleeds that much."

He shrugged. "Just trying to be optimistic. The other explanation is slightly more disturbing."

Wynne shook her head, eyes grave. "I have a feeling this village is not what it seems. We must be-"

"Get them!"

The group whirled around to meet the enemies. Kallian drew her sword and charged, directing the mages to freeze the archers. They weren't strong people- commoners by the look of their clothes. But there were around six or seven of them and they were persistent.

Kallian dodged the vicious swipe of one man and slit his throat. A woman attacked her, holding a huge chopping knife in her hand. The Warden blocked the strike and disarmed her. To her surprise, she kicked out at Kallian and caught her on the thigh. The elf grunted and stumbled.

The woman picked up her knife again, shouting. There was a blur as Zevran jumped in to intercept her. He delivered quick slashes- one at her throat, then her chest and finally her abdomen.

"Artfully done," commented Kallian, eyeing his handiwork.

The assassin gave her a bow and a smile. "As I said before, I am at your service."

Kallian snorted and looked around. Their attackers were all dead.

"Let's keep moving," she said to the group, gazing at the path leading up.

When they reached the top of the slope, more enemies appeared. This time, however, they wore roughly spun robes and armour. One of them held a staff and fired a burst of magic at her. Kallian hit the ground and rolled.

"A mage!" she shouted.

Morrigan threw a massive stone fist at the man, bowling him over.

The rest of them wielded long daggers and wicked looking axes. Kallian made a stab at the armoured man. He batted her sword away and kicked her. Kallian stumbled but regained her balance to slash at the exposed skin at his neck. Blood fountained out from the severed vessels. Together, the warriors overwhelmed the reavers while Morrigan and Wynne took out the mage. It ended quickly, but only because they had the upper hand in numbers.

She looked down at the corpses. "They were stronger than the others."

"I agree," said Wynne. "I wonder who they were."

"From their clothes, 'tis most likely some kind of cult," conjectured Morrigan, eying them distastefully.

 _A cult?_ Thought Kallian, shaking her head. This whole place was just bizarre.

She led the group into the sole house on the slope, which was completely empty. There was no furniture or anything to give them a clue.

"Well, nothing here…" said Alistair. He shuddered. "Come on, let's get out of here. This place is giving me the creeps."

"Wait a minute," said Kallian, frowning. She walked over to the far corner of the room, the aged wooden plank creaking beneath her boots. The small opening had been almost invisible, covered by the wall. But drawing near, it was clear there were steps leading down to a cellar. When she got there, Kallian froze, staring down.

There was an armoured body, mangled and mutilated on the floor. Dark blood stained the wooden planks and was splattered everywhere. She could see sliced off fingers and the acute angle of his snapped forearm. His face was covered by the helm and she had no desire to lift it and see.

Alistair came up behind her. She heard him suck in his breath.

"Maker! This man is from Redcliffe- he's one of the Arl's knights!"

Kallian felt a foreboding weight bear down on her but ignored it as she descended the stairs. She opened the door and was met by a horrible blast of rotting flesh. After glimpsing a pile of dismembered bodies, she gagged and slammed the door shut.

"What is it?" asked Leliana. "What did you see?"

"The rest of the knights," said Kallian, trying not to breathe through her nose.

Alistair exchanged dark looks with Wynne.

"There's something going on here. And we're getting to the bottom of it."


	13. Chapter 12: Too Close For Comfort

**CHAPTER 12: Too Close For Comfort**

"And here I was becoming rather fond of you watching me closely," said the Antivan, sighing.

"Move, assassin," said the witch.

"Why am I the bait again?"

"You promised your services to me. Consider it a chance to prove yourself," said Kallian, watching with her arms crossed.

Leliana also watched as Zevran walked over to the centre of the chamber. Everyone waited with their breaths held as he stood there. A while passed by and still nothing happened.

Zevran shrugged, turning back to them. "Well, it seems this part is safe."

The Warden nodded, taking a step forward. "Good. Now let's-"

Leliana jumped. Suddenly, a flurry of bolts whizzed down from hidden slots on the walls, ricocheting everywhere. Zevran yelped loudly and curled up in defence. Before the projectiles touched him, however, Morrigan's ward was activated. The bolts scattered on the ground, harmless.

Zevran stayed rock still, hunched over as the last of the bolts pelted the ward and dropped abruptly. The echo of the clattering faded away and left him standing there in a ridiculous position. Leliana covered her mouth to hide a smile. The elf opened his eyes and straightened up, looking around.

"You alright there?" asked Kallian with a smirk.

Zevran cleared his throat. "Yes, yes. Of course. Let us move on."

As they progressed through the freezing passageways, the bard took what time she had to gaze at her surroundings. Her eyes scanned the high stone walls and the stained glass windows, the dust covered shelves and furniture. To be here- to be where the ashes of Andraste herself were laid to rest… it was overwhelming. A great honour beyond compare. Others might scoff and think nothing of it but as a sister, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity she would never forget. Leliana felt both fear and a rush of excitement as they pressed on toward the goal.

After several more ambushes of Darkspawn, they finally reached a wide room lit by rows of torches. A heavy door marked with the symbol of a flame lay on the other side. She followed as Kallian walked forward cautiously. It was empty but they all tread carefully in case there were hidden traps. They had encountered too many unpleasant surprises to be fooled again.

Their breaths rose white and misty in the cold air as they made their way to the door. Leliana shivered in her new armour. Even the worst winters in the Chantry had never affected her so much.

Zevran was the first to react.

"Trap!"

Everyone hit the ground and rolled as bursts of fire issued from the mouths of stone gargoyles on the walls. More bolts rained down, and if not for Morrigan and Wynne's magic, Leliana was sure she would have died. She saw Kallian and the others crawl along the ground towards the door. The bard did the same and ignored the bruises on her body and her muscles protesting in exhaustion.

When they all reached it, Sten pushed the door open, exposing them all to the blast of icy wind. The force was so strong it nearly shut them in again but the Qunari leaned his weight against it. They finally stepped out into the open, standing on a great bridge leading down. It was cracked and crumbling from age but sturdy enough to support them.

"God," said Kallian, wiping sweat off her forehead. "Am I glad to be out of there."

Alistair nodded in agreement. "And look," he said, pointing to the distance. Leliana followed his gaze and felt her limbs relax when she saw the structure built into the mountain wall.

"The Gauntlet."

"As long as we don't have any more traps, I would share your enthusiasm," said Zevran.

Kallian smirked before walking down the bridge. "You never know. There could be more."

"Wonderful," muttered the Antivan, following her.

The rest of them made their way down to the snow covered path leading to the next door. Fallen pillars and stones lay everywhere, and Leliana wondered what the Temple had looked like in its former glory. But as she was pondering this, a bone chilling sound pierced the air.

The heroes froze as a reptilian shadow passed over them to settle on a cliff up ahead.

 _Maker..._ she thought in dread.

Up till this point, dragons had only ever appeared in her imaginations. And she realized the stories that described its magnificence had not done it credit. It was beautiful. But terrifyingly so, with its long scaly body that rippled with its muscles, the majestic wings, the wicked spikes and the dangerous tail whipping the air. It gave another cry, the sound echoing throughout the whole valley. The bard stood petrified and watched as it swept its gaze over them.

After a few painful minutes, it finally turned its tapered head away. The beast relaxed on the precipice, tail curling in.

The group kept still to make sure the dragon would stay there. They waited a while longer before everyone agreed silently with nods to proceed. Leliana slowly walked toward the door to the Gauntlet. She breathed shallowly, her eyes never leaving the beast's form. Together, they reached three quarters of the way. Kallian waved everyone's attention to her and nodded. As one, the heroes began running.

Unfortunately, Talon chose that moment to chase a mountain rabbit scampering away. The barking, of course, didn't go unnoticed- with a growl that echoed everywhere, the dragon stood on the edge of the cliff. It launched itself into the air and dove down toward them at full speed.

"Run!" bellowed Kallian.

Even the Mabari abandoned its pursuit and headed for the Gauntlet with his tail between his legs. Leliana sprinted for her life, heart pounding so violently and breathing so laboured that it hurt her chest and ribs. She struggled to keep her breathing even as the air rushing in was freezing to the point of burning her throat. The armour was also weighing her down with each step.

There was another roar and a great gust of wind blew her forwards. Leliana's stomach dropped down when she heard a deep rumble behind her. She put on a burst of speed in a final attempt at survival. The door was only a short distance away.

 _Maker help me_ , she prayed desperately.

Kallian, Alistair and Morrigan were opening the door already, but the rest of them…

She saw fear in their faces and felt it in herself as well. Her legs were becoming leaden and weary. She nearly tripped at the terrible sound from behind- the unmistakeable roar of fire. A blast of intense heat reached her and she smelled burnt hair. Leliana stopped and closed her eyes, waiting for death.

But death never came.

She opened her eyes, blinking at the melting snow. The heat was around her and she could feel its intensity- but she wasn't hurt.

"Sten, get her!"

The bard was swept off her feet by thick arms and she watched the crumbling pillars flash past as Sten raced for the door. Leliana could only hang there limply as the dragon snapped its jaws at them. The Qunari lunged and once more, they were plunged into the cold darkness of the Temple.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Cast off the trappings of worldly life and cloak yourself in the goodness of the spirit. King and slave, lord and beggar, be born anew in the Maker's sight," read Morrigan, face contorting in disgust. "What ridiculous riddle is this?"

"A simple one," said Leliana, and she began taking off her armour.

Kallian blinked. "Leliana, what are you doing?"

"The chantry girl has finally gone mad," scoffed the witch, crossing her arms. "That guardian has driven you to the point of false bravery."

"Erm, Leliana," said Alistair, eyeing the wall of flames. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yes. Now come, off with your clothes. All of you."

Kallian exchanged bewildered looks with Alistair but disassembled her armour and took off her clothes. She stood there shivering. But before averting her gaze from Leliana's bare form, she stiffened and stared. The smooth skin on the back was interrupted by old scars not unlike the marks of barbed whips. Here and there she could see the outline of claws branded into the skin.

The Warden gaped as the sister walked forward.

"Wait!" she yelled but Leliana was already in the fire.

 _No…_

Panic gripped and twisted her stomach. Kallian squinted into the flames, trying to make out the bards' outline in the fire. Then she saw her.

 _Maker's breath…_

She was on the other side, unharmed.

Morrigan made a noise of disbelief but disrobed anyway. Everyone walked through the fire and Kallian closed her eyes. When she opened them, she was indeed unscathed and alive.

The elf quickly clothed herself and marched over to the sister. "What the hell were you thinking?" she demanded.

The bard looked surprised, if not hurt.

"You should have discussed it with us first," Kallian growled.

Leliana recovered and frowned at her. "Kallian, we solved the riddle and we're here, unharmed. What's the problem?"

"What if you were wrong? What if you-"

 _What if you had died?_

"Kallian," said Alistair, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Calm down. Leliana's right… we're here. Look," he said, trying to cheer her up. He gestured at the Urn.

But the elf could care less about the ashes. She couldn't slow her racing heartbeat and the panic pulsing through her limbs. A distant part of her mind told her she was being unreasonable but Kallian couldn't let it go.

 _What's wrong with me? It's not like this is the first time she..._

Kallian ground her teeth together and turned to the Urn, glaring at it. They had dragged themselves through the whole Temple, hacking through Darkspawn, drakes and cultists, jumping through rooms full of traps and monsters…

 _This better be worth it._

She stalked up and opened the Urn, staring down at the ashes grimly. Kallian let her fingers run through the fine powder. She snorted to herself. There was nothing special about it- just the ordinary remains of a dead person. She couldn't imagine how this would cure the Arl but took a pinch of it anyway and walked back down.

The elf stood waiting as the rest of the group each took a pinch of the ashes. She watched as Leliana went up and stared at the ashes reverently. The sister bowed her head quietly and prayed. It was done with such respect and gravity that Kallian felt a stab of guilt for being so dismissive about the Urn. She shook herself.

 _I can have my doubts about it,_ she thought defensively. But when she looked up, the eyes of Andraste seemed to burn into her. The elf averted her gaze uncomfortably.

Morrigan muttered while walking up the steps about how it was all the "wishful, mythical beliefs of religious fools". She opened the Urn and placed her hand inside. But before she could retract it, there was a thunderous rumble that shook the whole Temple. Dust and debris rained down on them from above. Kallian exchanged looks with the others.

"What's happening?"

The next sound answered that for her.

The hair on her neck stood on end as the dragon roared. She yelped as a hole appeared in the roof and a massive boulder crashed in. It missed Alistair and Kallian by inches.

"Hurry!"

Morrigan and Sten both took their portions and rushed down.

Kallian cast her eyes about wildly, heart beating like mad.

 _Where's the damn exit?_

"There!"

Everyone sprinted for the door on the far left corner, dodging the smaller rocks falling from the roof. There was another deafening roar as the creature breathed fire.

"The Urn!" cried Leliana, looking back.

Kallian hesitated before running to her, taking her arm and dragging her through the door.

"It'll be fine! We need to get out of here!"

The sister was reluctant at first but the next boulder crashed down near them, sending the two sprawling. Kallian cursed and helped the other woman up."Come on!"

Both of them ran through the opening and down the passageway leading down. It was a winding, turning passage that made her dizzy and sick- especially since she could hear the dragon close by. It had abandoned the last room and was trying to figure out where they were.

The walls shuddered again as something slammed down. Fear cut through her as they picked up speed again, sprinting through corridors and jumping down steps. The rest of the group was a fair distance ahead because of Leliana's hesitation before.

She checked to see the sister behind her and breathed a sigh of relief when the last door let in a familiar blast of icy cold air. They had made it. It had taken them such a long time… but they had made it.

Morrigan raised her staff but nothing happened- nothing visible, that is. Kallian assumed she was erecting wards around them.

Everyone hurried through the exit. Kallian and Leliana followed to step outside on the snow. They doubled over, panting heavily.

Unfortunately, their rest was short lived.

The Warden lifted her head to gape at the huge lizard coming at them. Once again, they found themselves running for their lives. At this point, they were nearly at the base of the mountain- the only thing separating them and the village was a nauseatingly steep slope. Alistair and the others were way down the steps now but Kallian wasn't sure she and the sister would make it.

 _Shit._

The elf eyed the steps in despair- there was no way they could get down in time. A blast of fire enveloped the two and she flinched. Morrigan's ward was protecting them- but for how long? The dragon was gaining on them fast. Kallian exchanged looks with Leliana.

 _This can't be the end_ …

Her eyes flicked from the slope to the steps, then back again.

It was crazy… so incredibly stupid. But it was either that or face the dragon. Kallian took her shield and flipped it over on the snow. Leliana opened her mouth but the elf didn't give her the chance. She pulled the sister down onto the shield and took her own place behind her. The dragon raised its claws to swipe at them but roared as Morrigan electrified it. Kallian braced herself as she pushed the shield over the edge.

It was an experience she would never forget.

The wind blasted her face so hard she couldn't breathe and she had to squint because the cold stung her eyes. They hurtled down the snowy slope at a frightening speed.

"Arghhh!" She couldn't tell whose scream was louder- hers or Leliana's.

The sister clutched Kallian's leg so hard the fingernails dug into skin.

 _Fuck_ , she thought as the shield banged against some rocks, making them spiral out of control. The world went round and round continuously and she caught glimpses of the dragon's golden eyes.

Kallian tried to clear her head from the dizziness and stabbed at the ground with Fang. Leliana did the same with her daggers.

"Left!" said the elf, barely in time to avoid slamming into a heap of rubble.

The shield swerved to the left and together, they manoeuvred their way down to the base. Initially the dragon had clambered after them, crashing through the pillars that barred its way. But now it was distracted by the mages, who were both hurling magic at it.

Kallian swallowed down fear as they sped down the last part of the rugged slope. The ground was coming up to them so fast she was afraid they would crash. Most of the time, the wind and the speed made it hard for her to get her bearings. But they finally flew over the last obstacle on the slope to land on level ground. Hard.

Both of them got up with difficulty. Kallian groaned as she stretched her cramped muscles. Her joints creaked and bruises throbbed all over her body. The two glanced over at the dragon to see it swiping at the others awkwardly- there was a dagger protruding from its eye. No doubt Zevran's handiwork.

With the dragon blinded, the group was able to deal damages more easily. Kallian joined them in slashing the legs and belly. It whipped its tail about and hit her armour one time but didn't do much else. Soon they had it crippled and with a feeble roar the dragon collapsed on the ground with a resounding crash.

One deep cut at the neck and it was dead.

Haven echoed with the fading sound of its roar, but otherwise it was deathly quiet in the village. Everyone stood around the beast with their knees still trembling. They had come close. Too close for comfort.

"Lovely," said Morrigan wryly. "Now we can leave this accursed place."

"I noticed you didn't say it was "Too easy" this time. Losing your touch, are you?" said Alistair, earning a withering glare from the witch.

"Might I remind you of your performance back at the Temple? Stunned _thrice-_ knocked out cold by corpses, no less. Hardly foes to be overpowered by, would you not say?"

"I was trying to help Kallian-"

"Ah, yes! The elf. How typical of you to defend yourself with such a pitiful excuse."

"Now, now," said Zevran, chuckling. "We are all alive and well. There is no need for such a dispute."

Alistair and Morrigan still glared at each other and didn't reply.

"One might think this was a lovers' quarrel-"

" _What?!_ " the two spat at him.

"What a preposterous suggestion!" scoffed the witch.

"As if I would... with that _bitch_!"

"Yes, 'tis unthinkable! It- wait, what did you say?!"

Kallian sighed and banged the sword on her shield, gaining their attention. "Look, you can argue later. Let's move- I don't want to stay here any longer than I have to."

Alistair nodded, giving her an apologetic look. "You're right. Sorry about that... how are you two feeling?" he asked, addressing the sister as well. The two replied that they were fine. "You gave me a fright by coming down the slope like that."

"You gave us _all_ a fright, dear child," said Wynne, tutting. "It was a dangerous move to make... nevertheless, I am glad you are both alive."

"Sorry... we didn't have much of a choice," answered Kallian, rolling her shoulders.

"Well, it was certainly creative of you," commented Alistair, chuckling.

"Not really sure that's the right word to describe it," said Kallian, smiling. She started walking down the path but winced as pain stabbed at her in uncomfortable places.

"Are you alright?" asked Leliana in concern.

"Yes."

"Are you sure? I think you may have taken most of the impact..." the bard said apologetically.

"I don't think I'm much worse off than you are actually," said the elf. She took in the way the sister was limping and grinned.

Leliana smiled back. "You're right about that." Then she chuckled. "But I suppose... in a way, that was quite fun, wouldn't you say?"

"If you ignore the part where we were hurtling towards certain death, then yes."

The bard laughed. Kallian felt the smile on her face stretch as they walked down the path.

"But oh," said Leliana, shivering. "I will be very happy when we are sitting by the fire with hot food and a blanket."

"Same," agreed Kallian. "But I don't think I'll be sitting just yet."

"Why not?" asked Alistair.

"Because my ass hurts like shit."


	14. Chapter 13: Apples or Oranges?

**CHAPTER 13: Apples or Oranges?**

Zevran stifled a yawn as the Arl discussed his plans for the group. His grey hair was neatly braided back and a great beard decorated big, stern features. Eamon was not a man Zevran would contend with. From what he had heard from the others, the Arl had been ill and weak for a long time. But the authoritative noble in the chair was anything but. Still, there was no denying the hollows under his cheekbones or the loose fit of his clothes.

"Our chance lies with targeting his allies- and though this is no small feat, it will only be a matter of time before some will realize what is going on. When they discover that he is no longer the 'hero' he depicts himself to be, our voices in the Landsmeet will be heard."

"Will that be enough?" asked Kallian sceptically.

"No. But the claims will give his allies pause. We need to combine it with a challenge he cannot ignore- to do this, we need someone with a stronger claim to the throne than his daughter."

"Are you referring to Alistair, brother?" asked the Bann.

Everyone stared in shock at the Warden. Everyone, that is, except Kallian.

 _Well, this is an interesting turn of events,_ thought the assassin, leaning back in his chair. _And it seems only she knew about this._

He observed the two Wardens curiously.

"You cannot be speaking of _this_ Alistair, surely?" said the witch incredulously.

"I am indeed," said the Arl, eliciting a choking noise from Morrigan. "I would not propose such a thing if we had an alternative. But the unthinkable has occurred."

"So you're going to put him on the throne?" asked Kallian.

"Yes. Teagan and I have a claim through marriage, but we would seem like opportunists, no better than Loghain. Alistair's claim is by blood."

Alistair raised a hand in the air. "Uh, well what about me? Does anyone care what I think?"

The Arl leaned forward in his chair, lacing long fingers together. He turned his steel blue eyes on the Warden. "You have a responsibility, Alistair. If you do not use this opportunity, Loghain wins and I would have to support him. Is that what you want?"

Alistair didn't have the courage to withstand that glare. "B-but… my lord-"

"I see only one way to proceed," the Arl cut across him. "I will call for a Landsmeet- and there, Ferelden can decide who will rule, one way or another. What say you?" he asked, fixing his gaze on Kallian.

Zevran's initial thought was right- this man left no room to manoeuvre.

Their leader paused, glancing at Alistair. The other Warden shook his head, mouthing "no". But the elf sighed and nodded.

"I guess... we have no choice."

Alistair groaned.

"Very well. I will send out the word," said the Arl, rising. "Then our talk here is done. Champions of Redcliffe, make yourselves comfortable. And if there is anything you require, you need only ask."

The man swept out of the room and left the heroes at the round table.

"Well, at least we now have a solid plan," said Wynne, breaking the silence.

"I still can't believe you are the heir to the throne," said the chantry sister, shaking her head.

"Believe me, no one is more surprised than I am," commented the witch.

Alistair grimaced. "This is not how I planned to… no, actually, I didn't plan to reveal it at all."

Zevran propped his legs up on the table, crossing them. "Ah, but you told our lovely leader here, did you not?"

"I-I wasn't going to, but…"

Kallian came to his rescue. "We were just having a conversation the other day and it… came up. He didn't want word to get out."

"It didn't mean anything to me, really. Until now… I suppose we can use it against Loghain," he said unhappily.

Wynne nodded. "I am sorry that you must do this so unwillingly, Alistair. But perhaps, in time, you will learn to embrace it. After all, many would leap at the chance to become king."

"But I don't want this, I don't want to be king," whined the Warden. Morrigan eyed him with unconcealed disdain.

"I know this is difficult... but think about the Blight. There are so many more unpleasant things to trade for victory," said the old mage.

Alistair paused and kept sighing for a while before giving up. "Yes…you're right. I guess I am being a bit childish."

"Well done for recognizing it," mocked the witch.

The Warden didn't even glare at her as he stood up. "I… I'm just going to think on this for a bit."

"If that is what will help you," said Wynne, patting his arm.

Everyone else followed him out, scraping the chairs back. As they did, Zevran's eyes fell on the pair in front.

 _Hmm..._

While he had suspected the two not long after he had been recruited, he had never had enough evidence to confirm it. But ever since the Temple, things had gotten a little more... obvious.

It took a practised eye to see what he saw now but he was confident his discernment was still razor sharp.

Kallian and Leliana were walking ahead, talking in low voices. They were unaware of it themselves but there was almost certainly something palpable between them. The bard- oh, he knew of this fact long ago- had been a master seductress, by his observations. He was curious to know what brought a former Orlesian spy so far to Ferelden. If not for Kallian, he would have asked all the questions already.

And while he enjoyed the occasional attention from her- he wasn't fooled. It was harmless flirting, the devious design of a bard to attract the gaze of another- a bait thrown into the water to see if the fish would bite. Whether or not she was aware of it, the bard was drawn to the Warden. Or, at least, intrigued by her.

And the fish had taken the bite. Even from here he could see the smile Kallian was trying so hard to suppress. The assassin tutted inwardly. A few tips from him and she would be sailing through this more easily. But he knew very well the reason for her reluctance.

He had seen such tragic cases before. And it hardly ever ended well for city elves.

As for himself, however, Zevran had never known his parents to ever be confined by such expectations. He lived his years freely, albeit at the service of the Crows- it was a small price to pay. Especially since he could have anyone he desired.

Finally, he saw the two separating and Kallian headed for the dining room. Zevran followed her in, stepping up behind her without a sound.

"So I have been wondering lately," he said cheerfully.

"Maker's breath!" said the Warden, jumping.

He ignored her, sitting down to pick up an apple and examined it closely. "Do you prefer apples or oranges?"

Kallian narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Why do you ask?" she asked, also sitting down.

"Because you seem to be holding both in your hands," replied the assassin, chuckling.

The other elf's lips twisted. "What are you talking about? Spit it out."

"But then it won't be half as fun."

"Unlike you-"

"I was under the impression that you did not want to be heard… or found out."

"What are you-?"

"Alistair," he said with a wicked smile. "He seems to trust you quite a bit. More than a bit, actually."

"You're still going on about that? Alistair is just a good friend."

Zevran laughed. "I am sure he is- to _you_. But I suspect otherwise for him."

Kallian stopped in the middle of biting into an apple. He read the disturbance in her eyes and gave her a moment.

"A word of advice," he said, breaking the silence after a while. "I suggest you make it clear to him- you may be leading him on unfairly."

The elf frowned. "I never gave him any indication."

"That may be true, but… he is not always the brightest."

Kallian sighed and made a noise of frustration. "Shit, this is beyond me. I've got enough on my mind with the Blight and everything else. Besides, I could be imagining it."

Zevran peeled the orange he was holding. "Oh, believe me my friend. It is not hard to see."

"I prefer not to think about it," said the Warden uncomfortably.

"And Leliana?"

He resisted the urge to laugh when she stiffened.

"What about her?"

"Oh, I think you know what I mean," he said, cutting the orange with his dagger.

"No," said Kallian firmly. "I don't."

"Ah," said Zevran, smiling broadly. "Then shall I take that as permission to work my charms on the lovely bard?"

The elf's eyes blazed. "Where did you hear that?"

Zevran laughed. "Trust me, my dear Warden. I know these things."

He could almost hear her teeth grinding together as she fumed silently.

"She is a rare beauty, no? And a bard, no less. I think she and I will have _much_ in common."

"You dishonourable-"

"I thought you did not care?"

"I care about my friends!"

"Come, let us drop this pretence. You need not be shy."

The elf's eyes hardened.

"Don't play these games with me," she said coldly.

Zevran studied her and then he popped a piece of the fruit in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "You know, the Maker gave us these urges for a reason."

"If you start that again..."

"Whatever do you mean? I am talking about this orange."

"The hell you are."

"One must have food, no?" he forestalled her, eating again. "Or we will surely die."

Kallian looked like she wanted to kill him but didn't reply. He took that as an invitation to continue.

"Some like apples, some like oranges. Others like figs and pears and so on. Most of us could eat all of them. But imagine if there was a woman who was born with a _terrible_ allergy to oranges."

The Warden's mouth twitched but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her laugh. "What are you trying to say?"

"But wait, I am not finished," said Zevran, holding up a hand. He paused for effect. "And if there was, say, a famine or drought that wiped out every tree except those that bore oranges... do you think she would eat them?"

It was a question he posed casually, perhaps even to loosen her up. But his real intention was to do more than this behind the facade of flippancy.

Kallian gave him an expression that told him it wasn't worth replying to.

Zevran chuckled. "Hmm. I believe she would- to survive."

"She could die from that too, you know," said the Warden finally, snorting.

"Exactly. But she could perhaps eat as little as she could each day, just enough to live."

Something changed in Kallian's expression and she stood up abruptly. "This is ridiculous."

"Humour me, my friend. It is not often we talk like this."

"This is exactly why I don't talk to you."

 _Ouch_. "Just one question then: if she did eat and bear with these symptoms, would it be living?"

Kallian started walking away.

Zevran put the last piece in his mouth. "Is breathing, moving and functioning all there is to it?"

The Warden stopped in her tracks.

"Should we deny what is natural?"

It was a while before she spoke. "She had no choice."

 _Ah, so now you understand._

"And I wonder why that would be."

"Well, there must have been something she couldn't leave behind," growled Kallian, voice strained.

"If that is the case, I think starvation might be a kinder death for her. Wouldn't you say?"

A bitter laugh escaped her. "You know _nothing,_ assassin."

Kallian stalked out of the room without another word. But it didn't matter- he had said what he wanted to say.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Guard, deflect, strike!"

The flat of her blade banged against Alistair's head.

"Ow. Yes, that's it," he said, nodding. "And again!"

The two circled each other carefully. Kallian held her sword pointing in the direction of his chest as she shifted her feet. Both of them moved with knees bent, crossing one leg over the other with each step.

Alistair made the first lunge.

She anticipated this, twirling her blade to block his attack from the right. They spun to opposite sides, trading a passing blow. Kallian whirled around to receive the next uppercut, swinging her blade in a wide arc. She brought it down and forced him to make a short swipe at her torso. Another parry took care of that. It was a comfortable exercise of basic and complex manoeuvres, and Kallian loved it. There was nothing like the weight of a sword in her hand, losing herself in the rhythm of instinctive movements.

For a time at least, she forgot about everything else. Including what Zevran had said the other day.

Alistair pressed harder now, coming at her with heavy blows. Kallian increased her pace, taking the last strike with her hilt. She slid her blade along his and flung it away. He stepped back and she took the chance to attack him ferociously, her blade quick and precise. Left, right, down, sweep, parry, spin and swipe. Alistair blocked her moves admirably- being a former Templar, she hadn't expected anything less. She slipped once and he banged her neck with the flat of his sword. Kallian grimaced and rubbed the spot, which smarted.

"Maker, you're quick," said Alistair, panting. "You've improved since Ostagar."

"That was a long time ago- if I hadn't, I'd be dead."

"Still," he said. "I haven't had a spar like this in a while. You pick things up quickly."

"Let's try that move again."

"Alright, then. Get ready."

For the next few minutes, they traded furious blows, panting and sweating. They had been at this for the whole morning now, and she wasn't about to let Alistair win. She parried a cut from the side and sidestepped when he stabbed. As he spun, she was about to hit his shoulder when a flash of red made her falter.

Alistair crashed into her and they went tumbling to the ground.

Kallian landed hard on her back and grimaced. Fresh bruises formed under her armour. Alistair pushed himself off her, blushing.

"Sorry. Are you alright?" he asked, holding out a hand.

The elf glared at him but took it. She stood up and sighed. "Fine. I should have been ready for that."

"Never mind," he said, bending down to get her helmet.

Alistair nestled it back on her head. Then he hesitated before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Kallian stiffened at the gesture.

 _What the-?_

She looked up at him and felt a growing foreboding in her.

Someone cleared their throat from behind them. Kallian cursed inwardly when she saw Leliana.

"Oh, Leliana," said Alistair cheerfully. "Didn't see you there."

"Well," said the bard, walking over to them. Kallian took a step backward from Alistair.

"I was just wondering if… Kallian wanted some archery practice."

The elf felt a jolt of surprise. True, her archery skills were cringeworthy at the moment- her mother had never included this in her training. But the prospect of spending time alone with Leliana was daunting. And then she thought about staying with Alistair and decided that was even worse.

 _Is it really? Think carefully,_ said a voice in her head.

"Uh… yeah…" she heard herself say.

 _You fool!_

"Good," said the bard. "I'll take it from here," she said to Alistair.

"Go for it," replied Alistair, grinning. As he walked away, Kallian felt her heart sinking when she saw the spring in his steps.

 _Damn it. What have I gotten myself into?_

She turned to follow Leliana to the targets, shaking her head. Alistair couldn't… no, it couldn't be. Maker, he was like a brother to her!

Kallian was still subdued when Leliana handed her the bow. The elf strung it and tested out the tension.

"Alistair is quite fond of you, isn't he?"

Kallian's head snapped up at the question. The bard was pulling at her own bowstring.

"… Yes. Well, we've been through a lot together."

"True," said the sister, nocking an arrow. Kallian watched as she released it, letting it fly in a perfect arc. It landed neatly in the central ring.

"Impressive," said the elf, nodding.

Leliana bent down to get another arrow. She handed it to her.

Kallian raised an eyebrow. "You want me to show you?"

There was a glint in the sister's eyes as she jerked her head to the target.

The elf shrugged and turned to face it. "Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you."

Kallian pulled the bowstring back, adjusting her aim and trying to estimate which position would get it on the board. She sighed and let it fly.

The arrow didn't even get close to the target.

"Not bad," said the sister.

Kallian looked at her and her eyes narrowed. "Right... you're laughing at me."

Leliana removed her hand from her mouth. She chuckled. "I'm sorry, I couldn't resist. But really, it's not that bad. For your first time, that is." Then she placed her bow on the ground and stepped behind the elf. "Here, let me show you."

Kallian's eyes widened as the bard closed cool fingers around the elf's hands. She felt Leliana's soft form press against her from behind and stiffened.

 _By the Maker…_

Kallian swallowed as she let the woman raise her arms, gripping her with soft fingers. She felt like her brain had turned to mush. The Warden didn't even remember where the aim was when the arrow flew. It hit the centre.

She felt the cold wind as Leliana moved away again.

"Did you see where I aimed it?"

"Um… could you just show me again?"

Leliana laughed and took hold of Kallian's hands again. This time the elf paid attention. But the sensation was overwhelming- one brush, one contact and Kallian was paralyzed. The bard stepped back to watch her student's performance.

Kallian raised her arms skyward and brought it down, pulling the bowstring. The arrow tip was where she estimated the sister's had been. She let it loose and she hit the ring outside the centre.

"That was quite good," said Leliana in surprise.

Kallian shrugged. "Thanks, but that was only one shot. I probably won't do it again."

For the next few hours or so, she practised archery with Leliana's supervision. Eventually she got the hang of it- a sense of the right distance, the right pull on the string. Leliana had her try different distances and Kallian had to keep adjusting her aim. When she couldn't get it right, the bard would step in again and help her. Every time she did this, Kallian felt electricity course through her, again and again.

For the last time, she let loose the arrow and shot the centre.

"Yesss!" crowed Kallian, pumping her fist in the air.

Leliana laughed. "Well done. You did very well." Then she peered into the two quivers and found it empty. "It looks like we've finished with these."

Kallian nodded and rolled her shoulders. She looked up at the sun, the last of its rays lighting up the sky. The hours had gone by so quickly she hadn't noticed the time.

"We should go back," she said. "Same time, same place tomorrow?"

The bard nodded. "If you're up for it," she said, her voice teasing.

"Of course I am," said Kallian, grinning.

"Then it's settled."

But eventually the effects of adrenaline faded away and she groaned inwardly at what she had just done. It was a mistake. Training with Leliana was a mistake.

 _Damn it_ , thought the elf in despair. _I keep forgetting myself when I'm around her_.

The elf continued to argue with herself as they fetched the arrows lying around. It took a while since some of them had strayed to the sides. She bent down to get the last one and nearly spasmed as her hand touched Leliana's. Both of them froze, drawing back. The elf hesitated before picking it up.

When she straightened, the bard was looking down at her with clear blue eyes. Eyes like the sky she saw on better days in the Alienage, back when her mother was still alive. She couldn't look away, and Leliana didn't either.

 _What are you doing, you fool?_ A voice snapped in her head.

Kallian shook herself and held out the arrow. "Here."

The elf wiped her sweaty palms on her thighs as they both walked over to get their bows. She tried to look anywhere other than Leliana's face.

They made their way into the castle in silence and paused in front of Leliana's room. Kallian stared at the floor.

"Thanks for the help today."

"You're welcome," said the bard. She opened the door.

 _Tell her you've changed your mind about tomorrow._

They both stood there in silence for several minutes as Kallian couldn't seem to get the words out. She wanted to say it, but didn't know how. Something was holding her back. Hence she was still standing there locked in conflict- Leliana was probably thinking she was having a stroke or something. Finally, she gave up.

"Right… well, I should go."

"You go and bathe first," said the sister.

"No it's alright, you can."

"Or... if you want to, we could both go together. That way we would save time."

 _What?_

Kallian looked up at the teasing tone. No, it wasn't teasing… it was something Leliana had never used before. Maker, it was almost like… Zevran? She stared up at the woman, who was leaning against the doorframe.

Then the elf shook herself- she was seriously reading this wrong. Kallian nearly laughed at her own stupidity. Of course, this was not uncommon: even in the Alienage, she had shared a tub with Shianni and sometimes family friends of her age. But that was when she was young- Leliana was clearly joking.

"Erm, I'll just go first then," she said uncertainly.

Leliana nodded.

Kallian finally moved her legs in the direction of her own room but then paused, looking back at the chantry sister. "Goodnight Leliana."

"Goodnight Kallian," replied the bard, giving her a sidelong glance. A ghost of a smile touched her lips and there was a strange glint in her eyes before she turned away to close the door.

The elf stood there in the corridor, wondering if she really _had_ read it wrong.


	15. Chapter 14: What the Heart Wants

**CHAPTER 16: What the Heart Wants**

The arrow split the apple clean through the middle, landing with a solid thud.

Leliana's brows rose in surprise. She turned to the elf with a smile, which wavered at the lack of emotion in the expression. Kallian nocked another arrow and let it loose. The bard watched as the shaft landed an inch near the previous mark. Kallian picked up another, again with the same subdued automaticity.

"Kallian?"

The Warden turned slightly unfocussed eyes to her.

"Yes?"

Leliana eyed her with concern. "Are you alright?"

Kallian met her gaze for a moment before averting her eyes. "Sorry, I was distracted," she mumbled, raising the bow again.

The sister shook her head, putting a hand on the elf's arm. "It's getting late," she said. "We won't have enough light."

"Oh," said Kallian, as if noticing the sky for the first time. "I guess… we should stop then."

Leliana frowned as she watched the Warden walk over and wrench the arrows out from the tree. She observed every action with both concern and perplexity- for the last few days of travel, Kallian had been strangely detached and aloof. Almost as if she had returned to the same state she was upon their first meeting. Almost.

She wasn't cold- no, it wasn't that. Just… mechanical. And if Leliana didn't know any better, she would say that Kallian was… avoiding her. But she wasn't sure because the elf could be unpredictable at times. Was it her imagination? Or was something bothering her? Perhaps her memories of the Alienage? Leliana considered this, and then decided against it. A week had passed since the Gauntlet and Kallian had not shown any signs that it had affected her. At least, of course, none that she could see.

 _Was it something I said?_ Thought the sister, worried.

Had she been too obvious? Too forthright?

Maker, it had been too long since Leliana had tried her hand at romance. Had her skills deteriorated so terribly?

She thought things had been progressing towards a more hopeful direction… had she been wrong? Her intuition had never failed her before…

Kallian thanked her and walked away to have dinner. She didn't even look at the bard once.

Leliana felt the sting of hurt and rejection at this. She shook her head in confusion, flipping through the memories one at a time to find clues. Subconsciously, she fingered the two gifts hanging around her neck: the symbol of Andraste and the silver sword of mercy.

Were these gifts from a friend? Or something more?

Questions gave rise to more questions in her head as she stayed there a while. Finally, she realized the sun was down and walked over to the fire. When she neared it, Leliana was surprised to see Sten talking to Kallian. The Qunari usually never joined the others in conversation.

"But you understand my confusion, then," Sten was saying.

"What don't you get?" demanded the Warden.

"Women are priests, artisans, shopkeepers or farmers. They don't fight."

"You've got to be kidding me," she muttered. "That's not a universal truth. I fight. Leliana fights. Morrigan fights."

The Qunari frowned. "Why would women have a wish to be men? It makes no sense."

Kallian breathed out through pursed lips, face red with frustration. "Look. We want to be women who fight, not women who want to be men."

Leliana stared as the air charged up with tension between the two. Alistair seemed to notice also and came over.

"Uh… is everything okay?"

Neither of the pair replied. Leliana remained standing at a safe distance.

Alistair caught the elf's expression. "Sten... why don't you go sleep now? You've finished your meal."

The Qunari didn't seem to hear him.

Alistair sighed. "If you come with me, I'll give you my cookies."

This time, Sten turned his head to him. He hesitated. "Cookies?"

"Yep. Now let's go."

Sten made a discontented noise in his throat but left with the other Warden. Leliana raised an eyebrow at this, amusement bubbling up.

 _Sten likes cookies?_

But then the laughter died in her chest when she saw Kallian flicking a glance at her. The elf made an abrupt turn to go.

 _Not so fast,_ thought the bard, frowning.

"Aren't you going to eat?"

Kallian stopped and looked down at her abandoned bowl.

"I'm not hungry."

Unfortunately, Kallian's stomach chose that moment to betray its master. She gritted her teeth in embarrassment. Leliana tried not to laugh as she took the elf's arm and sat her down. The Warden acquiesced reluctantly, muttering in elvish under her breath.

"Come on," said the bard, smiling. She pressed the bowl into Kallian's hands and took another for herself.

The elf eyed her cautiously before eating. Leliana shivered a little at the way Kallian's eyes glinted in the darkness… like those of a cat. Once again, she was reminded of the fact that no matter how human she looked, Kallian was not human. She took spoonfuls of her own meal and hid a smile at the way the elf devoured hers within seconds. Kallian wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and the bard took that chance before the elf disappeared again.

"Have I upset you in some way?"

"... No."

"You have been deep in thought for the past few days."

The elf ran a hand through her hair, muttering in elvish again. "I had some things to think about."

"I see…" Leliana looked down at her bowl, pausing. "You seemed very upset about what Sten said."

Kallian grimaced. "It just… reminded me of my life in the Alienage."

This piqued her interest. "In what way?"

The elf's eyes seemed to burn in the firelight. "The standards, expectations," she answered, voice rough in the quiet air. "Women are supposed to be weak and submissive in our culture. I hated it."

Leliana nodded. She had some idea of this, at least. "I have heard a little of how it is with your people. But it is not so different among humans."

Kallian shrugged. "At least you didn't have to marry someone you didn't know."

Now _this_ was news to her.

Her eyes widened. "You're _married?_ "

A bitter smile twisted the elf's lips. " _Was_. Not anymore." The smile slipped off.

"What happened?"

"He was killed," said Kallian, eyes dead and flat.

"I-I'm so sorry," said Leliana, still stunned to learn of this fact.

"No need to be," said the Warden with a harsh laugh. "I didn't even know him."

Leliana paused for a moment before continuing hesitantly. "So you cannot marry who you want?"

The elf stared down at the ground, mouth stiff. Leliana was afraid she had asked the wrong question but Kallian answered her.

"No. My father made the match."

"I see…" said the bard, feeling real sympathy for the elf. "What was your… betrothed like?"

"Everything a husband should be," said Kallian emotionlessly. "Good looking, an accomplished smith, polite, brave."

Leliana blinked. "But you didn't seem very enthusiastic about the match."

The elf laughed humourlessly. "No, I wasn't."

"Well, why not?" A thought occurred to her. "Did you have a lover?"

Kallian avoided her gaze. "No. I didn't."

"Then why…?"

"Maybe another time," said Kallian, looking weary.

Leliana bit her lip, wanting to ask more. But she nodded.

A long, uncomfortable silence ensued after that. It was a very quiet night, which only served to worsen the gloomy atmosphere. The only thing Leliana could draw reassurance from was that Kallian didn't move away.

"Would you like to hear a song?"

The elf lifted her head, finally facing her in surprise. "A song?"

Leliana smiled, nodding. Without waiting for a reply, she ran to her tent to fetch her lute. When she came back, Kallian was waiting expectantly. The bard felt slightly self conscious as the elf watched her tune the instrument. But time had not dulled her skills- Leliana felt the familiar tension of the strings and the rough texture as she pressed on them. A smile came unbidden to her lips as the first notes rang in the air.

It was an elvish song she had heard long ago but her command of this language was poor. Instead, she sang it in her native tongue.

 _Time was once a blessing  
but long journeys are made longer  
when alone within.  
Take spirit from the long ago  
but do not dwell in lands no longer yours._

 _Be certain in need,_  
 _and the path will emerge_  
 _to a home tomorrow_  
 _and time will again_  
 _be the joy it once was_

Leliana finished off with a few strums and the last of the plucked notes faded into the air. She looked over to see Kallian watching her intently.

"You play well," said the elf.

"Thank you," said Leliana with a modest smile. "It is a song they sing when one is weighed down by sorrows or personal struggles. We walk this life surrounded by darkness, but tomorrow is another day, another beginning. The sun will always rise to bring the morning. And if there is light, there is hope."

Kallian's dark eyes reflected the flickering fire. "I don't know if I can take any more deaths."

Leliana nodded sadly. "Yes, the loss of life can cast shadows on the soul. But…I believe that death is just another beginning. One day we must all shed our earthly bodies to allow our spirits to fly free."

The Warden didn't reply immediately and Leliana held her breath. Then: "Father always said that. I never really believed it- it seemed too good to be true. But after all that's happened… it's strangely comforting to hear that."

Leliana smiled, relaxing. "It's a beautiful sentiment, I think- one that brings peace and hope to the grieving."

Kallian smiled back hesitantly. Then she cleared her throat. "Could you… could I hear another song?"

The bard laughed, taking up her lute again. "Of course. What would you like?"

"Anything."

"Well then," said Leliana, starting a soothing tune. "We shall venture into the lands beyond the Waking Sea."

The elf listened curiously as the bard sang of her homeland and the great love of a mother for her child, living a poor but happy life in the streets of Val Foret. And Leliana closed her eyes, imagining her own mother. As always, she could only bring to mind her grey linen dress, the warmth of her embrace and the hint of the scent she would wear.

When she finally opened her eyes, Leliana was surprised to see the elf nodding off, her dark bangs falling to cover her face. The bard chuckled and put down her lute. It was late into the night now, and everyone had retired to their tents. Kallian was practically asleep and leaning dangerously to the side.

"Kallian?"

She shook the Warden gently. The elf simply mumbled and continued to hang her head. After several attempts, Leliana gave up. She went and brought the elf's bedroll to the fireside and laid it out. Kallian wasn't too heavy, but there was still some effort required to position her right.

The elf sighed as Leliana helped her lie down and the bard sat there watching the flames light up her drawn face. Sleep smoothed out her features and made the expression less severe- almost childlike. Leliana smiled and fingered the symbol around her neck. After a moment's deliberation, she took it off and laid it by the elf's side. The sister looked down again at the pale face and hesitated before leaning in to press her lips against Kallian's.

"Sleep well," she whispered.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

That night, Kallian dreamed of her mother.

 _No one was home. Father was out and her cousins were working with him._

 _Kallian was left to the intimidating silence of the house and its brooding loneliness. She walked hesitantly to her bedroom and paused in the doorway. Adaia sat on the edge of her bed, folding clothes. Her mother didn't even look up when Kallian entered. After a very thinly stretched moment, Kallian couldn't bear the silence any longer._

" _Mother."_

 _Adaia didn't reply._

 _She tried again. "Are you mad at me?"_

 _The older woman stopped the task and stared at the ground, all the life drained from her._

" _You have been shutting me out, Kallian."_

" _I know."_

" _Valendrian tells me you have been neglecting your studies."_

 _Kallian worked her jaws. "I… I can't live like this, mother."_

 _Adaia lifted her eyes and seemed to age another twenty years. She patted the spot next to her. Her daughter sat down by her side._

" _You must, emm'asha."_

 _Kallian looked down at the ground, lacing her fingers together. Acid rose up in her throat and her chest ached. "What if… what if I could find a way?"_

 _Her mother shook her head slowly. "No."_

" _I could start a business, I could work for Valendrian-"_

" _No woman in the Alienage can support herself. You know this."_

" _Marriage can't be the only way!" growled Kallian, grabbing her hair as if to pull it out._

" _Kallian... you know this cannot be_ _," said Adaia. "We have hardly enough to provide for you and your cousins."_

 _Her daughter glared at the murky grey walls and the wooden framework rotting from water that leaked through during storms. Here and there she saw the gnaw marks of resident rats they had never been able to completely eradicate._

 _She hated this. She hated this situation so much._

 _Adaia continued. "You must keep it secret. No one must know."_

" _Damn it!" said Kallian, closing her eyes tightly. Tears burned behind her eyelids. "I can't do this!"_

" _You must!" hissed her mother._

" _Then I'll leave this place."_

" _You are young," said Adaia. "You do not understand what you say."_

" _It's better than being doomed to this fate! What's the point of living?"_

" _And what about me?" asked her mother. "Have you thought about how I feel, Kallian?"_

" _You're ashamed of me."_

 _Her mother shook her head and took in a shuddering breath. "I cannot accept this. I never thought… my own daughter!"_

 _Bitterness twisted Kallian's mouth._

 _Adaia dabbed at the tears in her eyes, looking despondently at the wall. She sighed as if her soul was departing from her._

" _You can change, Kallian. Pray to the Maker that you will."_

 _At this, her daughter bristled in anger. "No one can change me. How many times do I have to tell you to make you understand?"_

 _But Adaia wasn't giving up. "Perhaps you will learn to love your husband."_

" _This isn't just about my future!" hissed Kallian, glaring at her. "You're upset because I destroyed your dream! You dreamed of me marrying and having children to pass on my heritage!"_

" _Yes! I did! But open your eyes, Kallian! You cannot survive outside the Alienage. Stay here. Stay here and live in the comfort of marriage."_

" _Then let me die! It would be better than being imprisoned in this rat hole!"_

 _Kallian stared at the wall in shock as the slap burned her cheek._

 _There was a long pause as the two struggled to recover from their emotions. The younger elf sat there staring numbly. Her mother broke the silence._

" _I am not ashamed of you, Kallian. But I cannot accept this. I did not spend all those years raising you, only to let you live the life of an outcast."_

" _Then what about the training? What was the point of that?"_

" _It was one of the few things I had left to pass on to you."_

 _Kallian stayed silent._

" _It is for you, emm'asha," said her mother. "I am sorry but it is the only future you have."_

" _The only future…" murmured Kallian bitterly._

" _And think of your family, think of your cousins."_

 _Her mother looked at her almost pleadingly, and Kallian hated it. She had never seen Adaia so vulnerable before. The elf closed her eyes tightly. She knew her mother was right. She knew it. But that didn't make it any less painful._

 _Without replying, she walked out of the room shakily, knowing that her mother would never understand._

It was still dark. The fire had long since died out and the cold was starting to seep in. Ghostly outlines of the tents stood out in the slivers of moonlight passing through the trees.

 _I must have fallen asleep,_ she realized, remembering Leliana singing to her.

Kallian lay on the bedroll, the emotions of her memory still fresh and painful. But to her surprise, they weren't as intense as they used to be. A dull ache, more from the thought of disappointing her mother than anything else.

She lay there, staring up at the pitch black sky and fingering her lips. Perhaps it was her imagination. It could have been a dream. But somehow… she had the unshakeable feeling the kiss had been real.

Kallian half laughed to herself.

She thought she had left it all behind when she married Nelaros. Maybe with the right man she would forget about _that_ side of her. But no… fate toyed with her life again. And this time, it had thrown in a human. And not just any woman- a _human_ woman.

Kallian couldn't do it anymore. She had battled with herself day and night, tossing and turning, repressing these feelings with loathing. She couldn't fail her father, she had to bring honour to the Tabris name- that's what she told herself.

No one had affected her like this before. Not even Arissa. It was like there was a chain enslaving her to this woman. Her words pulled her in like the songs of sirens, like the unyielding pull of the moon on the waves. And those eyes… hypnotizing. The copper hair, the flawless skin, those lips…

Kallian groaned in frustration and clawed at the blankets, wanting to tear it to pieces.

 _Why?_

She spent the next few minutes, or hours, trying to sleep. Again, it was so futile it was laughable. Kallian finally got up to pull on her boots and throw on a jacket. The elf faced the sky, breathing out deeply. She closed her eyes, running a hand down her face. Kallian stood there and took in the crisp night air. It was refreshing, almost soothing to her troubled spirit. She felt she could surrender herself to the raw energy of the night. Lose herself in it and never return.

The Warden closed her eyes. She knew she couldn't escape this- because wherever she went physically, her feelings would always be with her. Because despite everything she told herself, she knew what her heart wanted.

"Kallian?"

Kallian's eyes snapped open. She turned to stare incredulously at Leliana.

Maker, could she ever escape from this woman?

"It is you," said the bard, striding toward her. Kallian stiffened, wanting to vanish into thin air. She started sweating like crazy, heart beating violently.

Leliana didn't seem to notice. She took her place next to the elf, staring up at the sky.

"The night is peaceful isn't it?" she said, hugging herself. "And the stars are out."

Kallian tried to follow her gaze but couldn't tear her eyes away from that face.

"Yes, they are."

"It comforts me to know that the stars will remain untouched by the Blight. That whatever happens, their light will stay undimmed," said the sister, smiling. Then she pointed to a group in the east. "There is a story about the cluster of stars over there. Do you know it?"

"No."

"Would you like to hear it?"

Kallian hesitated before nodding.

"A long time ago, there lived a fair maiden called Alindra. She had many suitors but she spurned them all, for she did not love them. One day, Alindra was sitting by the window in her father's castle, singing and dreaming… when her lovely voice caught the attention of a young soldier. Entranced by her voice, he drew near to Alindra's window. As their eyes met, he fell in love with her and she with him. When Alindra told her father about the man she had chosen, he was furious. For Alindra was high born but her love was a common soldier. To keep them apart, he had Alindra imprisoned in the highest tower of his castle and sent the soldier to war."

" _Kallian… you know this cannot be."_ Her mother's words rang loud and clear in the Warden's mind.

"Not a month had passed when she heard news of his death. She wept for her love and begged the gods to take her away. So earnest was her plea that the gods themselves were moved, lifting her high into the heavens, where she became a star. They also lifted up the soul of the soldier, and there he dwells, across the horizon from her."

Kallian swallowed heavily, the ache in her chest becoming more pronounced by the minute.

"The band of stars between them is a river of Alindra's tears, cried for her lost love. They say that when Alindra has cried enough, she will be able to cross the river to be reunited with her soldier."

"It's… it's a beautiful story."

Leliana nodded. "It is one of my favourites- a tale of a love so great and enduring that it defies death and moves the gods to action. Sometimes… I ask myself: does such a love exist? Can it exist?"

Kallian looked up with difficulty, feeling drained but helplessly drawn to her.

"Maybe," she said quietly.

There was a long pause, and Leliana's face was veiled by her hair. "You know," she said. "I enjoy these nights, the peace and safety that it brings… even if, as you said, there are Darkspawn out there. Even knowing this, I feel… I feel safe… with you."

Kallian's lips twitched into a weak smile. "Well," she said hoarsely. "I'd be a poor leader if one of you died on my watch."

Leliana turned her face to her, and the elf felt the breath knocked out of her. The moonlight bathed her face in an ethereal glow.

"What I mean to say is," said the bard, hesitating. "I enjoy these nights out with you. The long talks we have by the fire … well, I talk and you listen mostly," she said with a slight smile. But then she turned serious. "I wanted to say that I… that I trust you Kallian. You are… our leader, and my friend and… and sometimes, I think that m-maybe… we can be more than that."

The Warden listened at first with curiosity, then warmth and then finally complete shock at the words coming out from the bard's mouth.

 _What?_

Kallian stood there gaping, unable to do anything but stare like an idiot.

 _She… is she saying what I think she's saying?_

Leliana stood facing her, fidgeting with her sleeves. "Maker, look at me," she said, laughing nervously. "Stumbling over my words like an ill-educated peasant girl. Some bard I am."

Kallian gazed at her, feeling like the world was contracting down to a narrow focus. There were so many things about her that screamed forbidden: female, human, bard. It was against everything she had been taught from an early age. And yet... all she could see was this woman in all her perfection. She was beautiful. Just beautiful.

The elf felt a helpless grin spreading on her face. "You're cute when you're embarrassed."

For the first time, she saw a true blush appear on Leliana's cheeks. "I-I'm not embarrassed! I'm just… flushed because… because…"

Kallian laughed, almost choking. She laughed in disbelief. She couldn't believe this woman wanted her.

"Maker," she said, still laughing like crazy. "I do... I do want more than friendship. I thought that was obvious."

Leliana blinked, blushing deeper. "You… you do?" she said. "Oh… how very awkward! You felt the same way and didn't do me the courtesy of informing me?" she said indignantly.

Kallian burst out laughing again, her chest exploding with emotion. "By Andraste! Leliana, you didn't give me any clues either. I thought you only liked men!"

The bard's eyebrows climbed high. "But… what do you mean? I gave you lots of clues!"

Kallian chuckled, holding a hand to her forehead. "Oh, man. You couldn't be any more subtle. And to think I was-"

Her eyes widened as soft hands took her head. The bard's lips pressed against hers and Kallian closed her eyes, sinking into a comforting bliss that was so wrong. And yet... so right.

 _By the Maker…_

And in the peace of the night, under the stars they kissed… the beginning of a great and enduring love.


	16. Chapter 15: Sword of Mercy

**_Sorry about the late update but here it is. Hope you guys enjoy it :)_**

 **CHAPTER 15: Sword of Mercy**

Kallian shivered as Leliana whispered the instructions right next to her ear. She couldn't stop herself from flicking her gaze sideways. Her aim went too far to the left and the arrow shot past the trunk. Leliana giggled from beside her.

"Oh dear," said the bard slyly, handing her another arrow.

The elf took it and pulled the bowstring again. This time she kept her gaze firmly on the target. Her right hand gripped the string tightly, resting on her cheek. But just as she was about to release the tension, the sister blew on her neck. The last arrow went completely off target.

She turned around to stare at the woman.

"Hmm, it seems you need more practice," said the bard, suppressing a smile.

"I had that one this time," grumbled Kallian.

"Are you sure?" asked Leliana, coming to put an arm around the elf's neck. She leaned in close. "We can't have you distracted so easily."

Kallian felt her heart beating faster at the contact. The woman's face was so close... she stared at the long lashes curving up, the elegant line of her nose, the details on that flawless cheek...

"Maker, what have you been doing at the Chantry?" she asked.

Leliana raised an eyebrow. "Whatever do you mean?"

"I didn't know you were so damn flirty."

The bard smiled coquettishly. "Oh, I suppose we are taught to act more appropriately. I try, of course. But there are times when I want a bit of... fun," she replied, tapping the elf's nose with a slender finger.

Kallian felt a grin spreading despite herself. She shook her head, chuckling.

"Hey, are you two finished?" called Alistair from the campsite. "I'm starving!"

The elf slapped her forehead with a hand- she'd forgotten it was her duty to cook today. "Yeah, coming!" she replied.

Leliana checked to see no one was watching before planting a kiss on Kallian's cheek. "I will get the arrows, you go and make lunch."

The elf grinned stupidly. "Thanks." She turned and ran back to the campsite, touching her cheek. It still tingled from the kiss.

Alistair looked up from heating up the pot. "You look like you've had a good session."

Kallian realized she still had that goofy smile plastered on her face. She cleared her throat. "Uh… yeah."

She avoided his eyes and washed her hands before sitting down. Alistair had peeled the vegetables, leaving her to cut them up and skin the fish. After throwing them in with the salt and spices, Kallian started cleaning the knife and cutting board.

"Ahh," said Alistair in satisfaction, sniffing the smell. "I can't wait."

Wynne stalked up to them at that moment, narrowing her eyes at the former Templar. Kallian looked up curiously.

"Alistair, what is _this_?"

She eyed the grimy piece of cloth. It was so dirty it took her a few seconds to realize it was-

"A sock?"

"It's a _filthy_ sock," said the mage, shaking her head in disapproval. "How did it find its way to my bedroll?"

"Maybe it likes you? Socks are sneaky like that. Anyway, it's not mine."

Kallian could have sworn a smile flit across his face.

"It has _your_ name stitched on it."

"Oh. Ha, ha. Ha…"

The older woman spent the next couple of minutes lecturing Alistair on washing his clothes. Kallian smirked as she half listened and cleaned the knife. She was half listening because the other half of her mind was elsewhere… like the practice sessions she had with Leliana. A big smile surfaced again as she remembered the sly methods the bard had used to distract her.

 _Stop it,_ Kallian told herself, trying to control her facial muscles, which were aching from smiling so much. She felt like a kid again, wanting to sprint across the landscape, whooping and shouting.

Leliana was back now and she sat across the fire from her, watching sideways from beneath long lashes. The elf tried not to be too obvious when she returned the gaze, grinning crookedly.

"Um… Kallian? What is that smell?"

Alistair's voice snapped her out of her reverie.

"Oh shit," said the elf, looking down at the blackened mess in the pot. It was not the first time this had happened over the past few days. Now that she was back in reality, the smell hit her hard.

Even Wynne came over to narrow her eyes at her. "Child, how is it that you failed three times already? This won't do," she said, tutting. The mage shooed her to the side and Kallian got up to stand like a berated child.

There was a barely concealed laugh from Leliana.

"Really," said the witch, unimpressed. "It shall be evening before we leave this camp."

"Well, maybe she just has a lot of things to think about," said Alistair, coming to Kallian's defence.

"And I wonder what these _things_ are…" said the witch, unimpressed.

"Oh, I am sure they will be _important_ things," came the assassin's silky voice.

Kallian felt her face start burning and ducked her head to hide it.

 _Damn it,_ she thought in embarrassment. _These blushes are going to give me away one of these days…_

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Oh, wonderful! A dwarven tavern!" said Wynne, smiling. "I've always wanted to try some of their ale. I hear it's quite potent."

Kallian raised her eyebrows at that, as did everyone else. "Wynne... I didn't think you'd be one to drink."

"And why not?" asked the mage. "Because I am old? You forget that old women can enjoy a time at the tavern too."

"Well…"

They all entered the Tapster's Tavern, which was predictably loud and crowded with dwarves. Leliana stepped in after Zevran and was met by a blast of warmth and the strong smell of ale. It was a nice enough environment and Leliana felt her limbs relax a little.

Kallian led them over to a table and the companions sat down. The bard placed herself next to her lover, taking the elf's hand under the table. Kallian jumped and Leliana smirked at the reaction.

"So," said Alistair. "Has anyone had dwarven ale before?"

Leliana nodded. "I once drank a thimble of it."

"How was it?" asked Kallian, curious.

The bard smiled suggestively. "Woke up a week later in Jader wearing nothing but my shoes and a towel."

"Er…"

Zevran whistled. "That would be a sight to see. If you ever need a partner, I would happy to come along."

Kallian glared at him, which the assassin ignored.

"How inappropriate," said Wynne, tutting. "Really, Zevran. You need to put a rein on that tongue."

"Forgive me, I shall be more discreet," said the assassin, smiling. Leliana had the feeling his definition of discreet was different to Wynne's. He turned to the bard.

"So I imagine it has been some time for you, Leliana."

The bard raised an eyebrow.

 _What is he up to now?_

"Some time for me? I do not know what you mean."

Zevran leaned back in the chair with a languid smile. The others were distracted by the dwarf that came to take their orders.

"Some time since you last knocked boots, shall we say? You did just come from the cloistered life, no?"

Leliana kept her face neutral. "Of course it has been some time. There are more important things in life than "knocking boots"."

Zevran laughed. He glanced at Wynne before leaning in to whisper. "Oh, I'll not argue that. I simply mean that the body has urges, urges given to us by the Maker. Yours must be... considerable. After all that time."

She felt Kallian's hand twitch under hers. Leliana gave it a squeeze before giving Zevran a warning look. "That is a very personal question."

"I mean no offense. I simply offer my services should you ever feel the need for... release."

Now Kallian looked thunderous.

"What's happening here?" said Alistair, bringing the tankards with the dwarf. "Why does Kallian look angry?"

Wynne glanced at Zevran suspiciously. "My dear elf, have you been making trouble again?"

"No doubt he cannot resist the temptation," commented the witch, lips twisting.

"Such sinister glares do you a disservice, dear Morrigan. Yours should be a face that smiles," said Zevran, flashing a smile at her.

"Again with the flattery? Do you not tire from these pointless exercises?" asked the witch with a scathing look.

"In Antiva, women are accustomed to being showered with the praise they deserve."

"They don't find that incredibly annoying?"

Leliana watched as Kallian drained the ale, wiping her mouth. There was still some froth left beside her lips and the sister resisted the urge to wipe it for her. Instead, she sighed. Zevran most likely knew about the two, so why...?

 _Oh..._

The assassin winked at her mischievously, looking pleased with himself. Leliana let her lips spread in a small smile, understanding. Zevran certainly liked playing his little games.

She felt her limbs relax and leaned back in her chair. Her gaze roamed the tavern and its customers. Leliana watched the dwarves curiously, taking in their strange clothes, foreign gestures and listened to their guttural language. Finally, her attention came back to the group.

She glanced at Alistair, who was chatting with Kallian. The bard felt a stab of guilt. It wouldn't be long before he knew about the relationship and she wondered how he would take it. Leliana took a sip of the ale and let the liquor run down her throat, relishing the taste- it was a pleasantly nutty flavour with a sweet overtone.

Kallian turned to her to look at her with those dark eyes. They gazed at each other for a moment before Leliana smiled.

"So serious, my love," she said in a low voice.

"Sorry," the elf replied, looking troubled. "I'm not really a fun person to hang around, am I?"

Leliana raised her brows. "Kallian, I wouldn't want to be with anyone else."

Kallian didn't seem to hear her. She fixed murderous eyes on Zevran, taking a sip of her ale.

The bard leaned in with a sly smile. "You look _so_ adorable when you're jealous."

Kallian choked, blushing. "I wasn't jealous," she said indignantly.

Leliana smiled wider and nudged her. "Of course you weren't."

The elf played with the tankard absent mindedly. "I don't like the way he looks at you."

"And how does he look at me?"

Kallian narrowed her eyes. "Like a piece of meat. He has this slippery look, like… are you laughing at me?"

Leliana bit her lower lip, trying not to smile. "Oh, it's so _easy_ to tease you."

"… So I've heard."

Then the bard leaned away from Kallian quickly when she caught Wynne's gaze. The expression on the mage's face gave her pause. But then Alistair started a conversation and she was distracted.

Leliana turned back to Kallian, trying to smile. But even as she did, she had the nagging feeling that Wynne suspected their relationship. And not only that, but she couldn't wave away the feeling she didn't approve of it…

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Excuse me, stranger. But have you seen a Grey Warden pass by?"

Kallian stopped trying to sidestep him. She frowned and looked him up and down. The dwarf was thickset, with red hair that was nothing like Leliana's and a big plaited moustache. He swayed dangerously, as if drunk. "I might have, why?"

"There's been rumour floating around that he… or was it she-you understand this was many mugs ago- was searching for Branka on Lord Harrowmont's own command."

Kallian gave him a sidelong gaze. "And what did the Warden look like?"

"Stout and muscular, fair of face, but with a strong jaw and a bold nose, surrounded by a great glowing nimbus."

Leliana snorted behind her.

But the dwarf wasn't done. "If she's a woman, she might be more slight, but her eyes will shine with the light of purity and her large but chaste bosom will heave magnificently," he said, gesturing with his hands.

 _What the fuck?_

Now the bard was giggling uncontrollably. Kallian's eye twitched as she stared at the man incredulously.

"I've been looking for hours," said the dwarf, sighing. "But I haven't seen anyone like that. Very frustrating."

"Maybe that's because she doesn't look like that."

The dwarf's expression turned hopeful. "You seen her?"

"I'm the Warden."

"…"

The dwarf looked her up and down. "Didn't expect you'd be an elf. The standards must have gone way down."

Kallian raised an eyebrow at this.

"Say, could I ask you a favour?"

The Warden crossed her arms, glaring at him. "You just insulted my race, and now you want my help?"

"Alright, forget I said that then. Name's Oghren, and if you ever heard of me before, it's probably all about how I piss ale and kill little boys that look at me wrong," said the dwarf, laughing.

No one laughed with him.

Oghren cleared his throat and continued. "And that's mostly true, but the part they never say is how I'm still the only one trying to save our only Paragon."

Kallian's pointed ears pricked up. "Go on."

"I'm the only one who knows what she was looking for, which might be sodding helpful in finding her. She's a smart woman, but half the time she would add two and two and make fifty. If you want to find her, you want to know how she thinks."

"Alright," said Kallian, thinking. "So why do you need my help? Why haven't you found her?"

"Believe me, I've tried. But where she was going, it's a lost thaig. I searched as far as I could but…" his voice trailed off and he sighed dejectedly. "Ach! And I'm not some sodding elf maiden sitting around and waiting for a passing hero to solve all my problems. I'm a bloody warrior!"

"Why do you care so much about Branka?"

"Why?" asked Oghren in disbelief. "Because I was sodding _married_ to her, that's why."

"Married?" said Kallian, surprised. "Okay, then. Tell me what she was looking for."

"The Anvil of the Void, which is probably the most important invention in Orzammar's history."

Kallian sighed.

 _Circles within circles…_

"You can join us then, and tell us about this Anvil of the Void along the way."

"Perfect. Say, do you have some ale with you?"

With the additional companion, the party continued to the Proving Grounds. When they got there, Kallian tried to convince the two dwarfs Baizyl and Gwiddon, who both stubbornly refused to fight.

"Look," said the burlier warrior. "Unless you can recover those letters, I don't want any more harassment!"

Kallian sought out Gwiddon, whose response wasn't any better: "It's my family's job to protect this city, not get caught up in some political games better left to the noble caste."

She exchanged glances with Alistair.

"Well… I guess it's just us then."

The other Warden nodded.

"Let's go. I'm ready."

Kallian turned to the Proving Master and started to move with the others when a gentle tug pulled her back.

Leliana looked down at her and jerked her head in the direction of one of the recovery rooms. Before anyone could glance back and see them, she quickly followed the bard. Kallian faced her in the room and gave her a quizzical look. Leliana slipped off her pack and the elf watched curiously. She took out the bedroll, which had been protruding out from the bag for the whole way. Kallian had vaguely noticed this but never asked. And now she understood why Leliana hid it.

Kallian's eyes widened as the bard revealed the full length of a beautiful sword. It was silver, well-tempered and styled to perfection. The blade was long and slim, tapering to a wicked point.

"Maker," she breathed, fingering the word etched on the flat: mercy.

She looked up to see the bard's soft gaze.

Kallian shook her head. "When did you… how did you-?"

"You mentioned you needed a new sword in Haven," said Leliana. "You've given me so many gifts already… I wanted to give you something back."

The elf laughed softly. "So you gave me a real sword of mercy?"

Her lover smiled, reaching out with soft fingers to touch her cheek. "So you will always remember me."

Kallian grinned and nodded. "I definitely will." Then she gave her a sideways look. "So I guess this is the equivalent of a couple ring?"

Leliana's smile widened, and the elf watched as the light changed in her blue eyes. "I suppose it is."

Kallian smiled so widely she thought her cheeks would burst.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, Kallian."

The elf ran her hand along the smooth blade, still in awe. She gripped it and tested it out. It was perfectly balanced.

She sheathed it and took the bard's hand, pressing her lips to it. "Then... I shall win this fight for you, my lady," she said with a bow.

Leliana laughed and nodded.

"I will be waiting, my knight."


	17. Chapter 16: Slime and Grime

**CHAPTER 19:**

"So, uh… are you still coming with us?" asked Kallian tentatively with a sidelong glance.

The dwarf just shook his head, his demeanour deflated. She wasn't sure if he was answering her question or just shell-shocked by the news. After a while she tried again.

"I heard you the first time," he said gruffly, taking a swig of ale. Oghren let out a resigned sigh. "A man's gotta keep his promises."

Kallian nodded in relief. She had doubts about him, drunkenness and all, but they needed his guidance through the Deep Roads. Everyone was exhausted from the long journey and their food supply was dangerously low. If they didn't find Branka soon, chances were they would die from starvation if not killed by Darkspawn.

He sighed again. "Still… if I knew she had those interests, I could have made some adjustments," Oghren growled bitterly.

"I'm… sorry it turned out this way."

"Ah, what are you apologizing for?" laughed the dwarf weakly. "Not yer fault I had a loveless marriage."

Guilt knifed its way into her stomach and she almost felt as if Nelaros' badge was burning her skin.

"Should have known," Oghren said repeatedly to himself.

Kallian watched as he walked ahead, muttering darkly. They all stepped out of the corpse ridden room, trying to ignore Hespith's chanting voice. She shivered as a cold drop of something fell on her head. Alistair joined her outside and Kallian gestured at the map he was holding.

"Where to next?"

When he didn't reply immediately, the elf frowned up at him. To her surprise, he looked as subdued as Oghren.

"Alistair?"

The other Warden seemed to remember where he was. "Sorry, what was that?"

"You okay?"

Alistair nodded slowly, though he still appeared to be thinking hard about something. He stared at the map before moving to join the dwarf without another word. Kallian was puzzled by his response but followed them anyway. He was probably just tired.

Maker, they _all_ were. Kallian herself was barely able to stay on her feet, dragging her body along with each step. Plus, her head was pounding with a headache and she was aching everywhere. And her stomach had stopped throwing tantrums long ago- in fact, she had hardly any appetite.

Kallian took a few steps, then froze. She moved quickly to the front to hold out an arm and stopped her companions.

Oghren grumbled in irritation. "What are we-? Oh."

Two mountainous ogres were crashing around in the area, guarding a heavy steel door. For the moment, the group was safe because the ogres had terrible vision. But a few more steps and-

"Yarrghhh!"

Kallian winced as the dwarf charged, his axe raised high in the air.

 _Too late._

The Warden signalled to the others and they all either charged with Oghren or assumed their positions. Previous fatigue dissolved as her body hummed in anticipation. The monsters turned their glassy eyes slowly to the group. They gnashed their sharp, blood stained teeth and long, rope-like muscles tensed as they bent their knees…

"Watch out!" hollered Kallian as the beasts charged.

She barely had time to dive out of the way as the ogres shot past them. As she got to her feet, she noticed Morrigan had its legs immobilized. Alistair, Talon and Zevran rushed at its back. Sten, on the other hand, was dodging the second ogre's arms and drawing gashes on its torso. Kallian shook her head.

"Behead it!" she yelled, running to join him. Leliana sprinted with her, but the elf pointed to the side.

"Stay out of range," she said quickly.

"Kallian, I can-"

"Aim for the neck!"

The Warden swung her sword to distract the ogre as Sten stumbled. She plunged her sword into the abdomen, but the blade didn't go in deep.

 _Damn, it's thick!_

The ogre just roared and punched her.

She cursed herself for her stupidity and ignored her bleeding nose, wrenching her blade out. As the ogre raised its arms for another attack, Kallian slashed at its legs. The skin was thinner there and her blade contacted bone. It roared again and fell to its knees.

"Sten!"

There was a sickening _thump_ as the blade sliced through flesh. Blood splattered her face. Arrows protruded out from the neck and finally, Leliana's last shot severed the artery. The ogre toppled to the ground.

Alistair joined them, covered in red. He saw the blood on the elf's face and ran to her.

"Did it hit you?" he asked, the worry in his voice painfully obvious.

Kallian turned her head away awkwardly. "'s nothing," she said, grimacing as her nose throbbed and burned.

Wynne tutted as she examined it, shaking her head. "It's broken," she said.

Leliana came over and pulled the elf's hands away from the bleeding.

"I said I could handle myself," said the sister, sighing. "Now look what you've done to yourself."

Wynne raised her staff and there was an unpleasant popping as the cartilage and bone healed. The pain faded away and Kallian sighed, relieved.

She turned to the dwarf. "Next time, tell us before you charge in like that."

Oghren grunted but nodded.

Kallian turned back to the rest of the group and noticed Alistair looking at her with an odd expression.

She was disturbed by what she saw on his face but time was too valuable for them to linger. The elf quickly moved on to the steel doors before she could think too much on it.

The doors led to another narrow tunnel, and Kallian was beginning to wonder if there were giant earthworms living in the Deep Roads.

 _This is just ridiculous… how many more of these are there?_

Their footsteps rebounded off the hard walls and they all held their weapons at the ready, alert for any Darkspawn around the corners. For a while they didn't see anything. Surprisingly, the tunnels were dead quiet. Too quiet.

Kallian continued forwards, eyebrows furrowed. She jumped when a hiss echoed in the passageway, but it was only an insect. A strange, scuttling creature with a purple carapace and multiple pincers. She shuddered.

There was a clinking noise behind her as Oghren took a swig from his flask.

"What are you drinking my fine dwarven friend?" asked Zevran.

"You can't have any!" shot back Oghren.

"Oh, do not worry, I won't. The stench is worse than your feet."

"What are you doing smelling my feet, huh? Some kind of Antivan perversion?"

"It is not difficult to smell your feet. Perhaps in Antiva."

"Hmph. Now you're just-"

"Shh!" hissed Kallian, stopping. "There's something ahead!"

Everyone tensed, advancing cautiously. More sweat gathered on the Warden's grimy face as she moved. A distorted shadow stretched on the ground and there was a peculiar bubbling, slithering sound coming from nearby. Kallian's face contorted as the smell hit her suddenly. It was something she had only experienced a few times in her life… something that reeked of-

"Is that rotten squid?"

The heroes walked into the area to gape up in horror at the monster awaiting them. It was a freak of nature, designed only to elicit terror and revulsion. The broodmother loomed over them, absurdly obese and purple skin mottled and slimy. Slimy like the countless tentacles wriggling from its torso. Kallian could only stare as the creature moved, great folds of skin bulging and quivering. Her mind blanked. It was only when Alistair shouted the order that she was startled out of her reverie.

"Attack!"

There was a flurry of activity as Talon, Sten and Alistair went for its tentacles. Morrigan, Leliana and Zevran threw fire bolts, arrows and acid flasks at the creature. Kallian, on the other hand, surveyed the area. The tentacles were everywhere, and it was only a matter of time before it grabbed them. And she had no idea how long those slimy appendages could reach. She warned the ranged fighters to stay back and rushed to help the others.

It was quickly apparent that they weren't getting anywhere. As soon as she lopped off a tentacle, another sprouted in its place. They were preventing the warriors from nearing its torso, where it was vulnerable. More than once, the four of them were slammed to the ground by a tentacle from behind. Only Morrigan's spells helped free them from the grip.

Kallian growled in frustration. They hadn't achieved anything- except fuel its anger. The broodmother roared and whipped Alistair onto the ground. Sten hacked off three of the tentacles, to no avail. Leliana was firing arrows at it but they hardly did any damage, burrowing in the folds of flab.

Only Zevran's acid flasks seemed to be working, corroding the flesh and slowing it down. One of the projectiles hit a tentacle, making it sizzle and shrink into the hole in the ground. To Kallian's surprise, it didn't rise again.

 _That's it!_

"Zevran!" she shouted. "The acid flasks are working!"

The assassin gave her a helpless shrug. "Only three left!"

 _Never mind. I have another way._

Kallian sprinted back to the elf and took a flask from him. He didn't have the time to question her. She ran back to the broodmother, pouring the contents on her blade. It dripped down and Kallian tried not to let it burn her.

"Catch!"

She threw it to Alistair.

He followed her order and Sten did the same. The three of them slashed at the tentacles wildly, watching in satisfaction as they writhed and corroded away. Again and again, they chopped off the flailing appendages until the broodmother was left defenceless.

The combined attacks of the whole group overwhelmed the creature. Arrows protruded from its eyes and chest, fire burned it and swords plunged into its heart.

It gave one last shudder before dying.

The warriors pulled their swords out. Everyone breathed out a sigh of relief and looked around in disgust at the tentacles lying around.

"That's where they come from," came a familiar, hair raising voice from above.

Kallian's head snapped up at the sudden sound and she saw Hespith hunched over on the cliff.

"That's why they hate us," she continued, eyes glassy and distant. "That's why they need us. That's why they take us. That's why they feed us."

Kallian exchanged a bewildered look with the others.

"But the true abomination is not that it occurred, but that it was allowed. Branka, my love," the dwarf breathed. "The stone has punished me, dream friend. I am dying of something worse than death… betrayal."

Then she slipped away into the shadows, leaving them all with the repulsing corpse of the broodmother. Kallian glanced at the slime dripping from her sword and grimaced.

"Well that was… somethin'," said Oghren, grunting.

"Urgh, that was the ugliest thing I have ever seen," commented Leliana. "I'm glad that's over."

"No kidding," said Kallian. "Hope that's the _only_ one I'll ever see."

"Keep your eyes open," said Alistair. "You never know what we'll be facing."

They all continued up the slope, going through another tunnel. All of them were so similar that Kallian had given up trying to navigate long ago. It was best just to guess.

The dull walls of the tunnel gradually lightened with each step, and Kallian squinted as it opened up into another area. There was a figure standing on a ledge up ahead. It was a female dwarf, armoured with a sword strapped to her back.

 _Is that… Branka?_

But before they could reach her, there was a deep rumbling and the elf whirled around in panic to see the tunnel closed off.

Her worry was reflected in the others' faces.

"I'll be blunt with you," a sharp, brisk voice rang out. Kallian turned to the dwarf, who looked down at them impatiently. "After all this time, my tolerance for social graces is limited. That doesn't bother you, I hope?"

"Shave my back and call me an elf!" said Oghren excitedly. "Branka? By the stone, I barely recognized you!"

"Oghren…" said the woman with obvious distaste. "It figures that you'd eventually find your way here. Hopefully you can find your way _back_ more easily. And how should I address you, elf? Another hired sword, sent by some lordling to find me?"

"Be respectful, woman! This is a Grey Warden!" said Oghren, wagging his finger.

"Ah, an important errand girl then. My mistake," said Branka, pacing the ledge. "I suppose something serious has happened then. Is Endrin dead? That seems most likely… he was on the old and wheezy side."

 _Straight to the point, then._

"Yes. And Harrowmont needs your support as his successor."

The dwarf scoffed. "Harrowmont, is it? I don't care if the assembly puts a drunken monkey on the throne! The Anvil of the Void is lost to the very Darkspawn it should be fighting! With it, the ancients were once able to raise up an army of golems to defeat the Archdemon. _This_ is what's important, _this_ has lasting meaning! I have sacrificed many things to find it and gain access to its locked secrets."

"Does that include Hespith and the others of your house?"

"Enough talking. I will not involve myself in this imbecilic election. I must first have the Anvil. There's only one way out Warden- forward."

Oghren let out a growl of disbelief. "What has this place done to you? I remember marrying a girl you could talk to for one minute!"

At this, Branka's face slipped into something resembling regret. But then it was gone. "I am your Paragon," was her final word before melting away into the shadows.

"Blasted woman!" muttered the dwarf. "Never knew when to keep her nose out of these things."

Everyone paused for an awkward moment as he let out a string of curses in dwarvish.

"Well… I guess we don't have a choice," said Alistair to Kallian, shrugging.

She nodded, moving to follow Branka into the darkness. "You heard her- the only way out is forward."


	18. Chapter 17: Broken

**CHAPTER 17: Broken**

Since leaving Orzammar, the stocky dwarf had been uncharacteristically silent. Everyone wisely left him alone, as he refused to be comforted. Actually, it was more like he refused to admit he needed comforting. Oghren made every effort to appear as though he didn't care.

Kallian failed to stop the coughing fits along the way as they travelled the northern perimeter of Lake Calenhad.

 _Bloody hell,_ she thought, blowing her nose. Kallian hoped Wynne's medicine would work in time.

At least the air was moving into warmer temperatures now, away from the chill of the Frostbacks. Her fingers were no longer numb, and the stiffness had gone from her limbs. And more importantly, she had food in her belly. The only reminder of the Deep Roads was the stubborn cough she had developed. It didn't surprise her- the place had been filled with dust and other things that befouled the air.

Finally, they arrived at the last flat plains before the Bannorn. Kallian scouted out an open area with moderate cover- rocks and trees defending them from the south and west. It would have to do. She knew she had made the right decision when everyone collapsed on the ground, exhausted. No one had the strength to pitch the tents yet.

The elf had barely removed her armour when a shadow fell over her. She shielded her eyes from the sun with a hand, just making out the form of Alistair. He looked awkward and troubled, but determined.

"Kallian, can I talk to you?"

The elf nodded, gesturing for him to sit. A few meters away, she saw Leliana eye the pair cautiously. But she made no move to intervene.

Kallian faced the other Warden, who sat picking at the grass for a few minutes before speaking.

"I've… been thinking," he said.

She braced herself.

"I've, er… I've noticed that you and… Leliana…" He paused, looking uncomfortable. "Have gotten very close. Closer than friends, shall we say."

"Alistair…"

"At first, I never thought much of it. Well, it just looked like two girls becoming best friends. But when I heard about… about Branka and Hespith, it occurred to me that this might be a possibility… that you and her could be… you know."

Kallian cringed inside.

The other Warden was still talking. "I've always wondered why you never showed any interest in me… well, of course, it could just be that I'm not attractive enough. But you never talked about men that way. I just never…" His voice trailed off uncertainly and he laughed nervously. "I mean, I could be completely wrong. I can be a mite paranoid sometimes but… _is_ this my imagination?"

The elf looked Alistair in the eye for a moment, trying to decide. She didn't want to hurt his feelings, but she didn't want to hide this anymore. "Alistair, Leliana and I are lovers."

Alistair made an effort to keep his face neutral but Kallian could see the light dim in his eyes. He nodded slowly. "I see."

"It wasn't because you were unattractive, Alistair. I'm sure loads of women would line up for your attention. It's just… you know."

"I understand."

There was a long, painfully awkward silence. Kallian bit the inside of her cheek and squirmed in her spot on the ground. Alistair looked down at the grass and started picking at it again.

"I, er…" said Kallian. "I hope this doesn't affect our friendship."

Alistair shook his head quickly. "Oh no, don't worry about that," he said cheerfully. "I'm fine. Really!"

Doubt and guilt gnawed at her but she tried to ignore it. "That's… a relief." She cleared her throat. "You're like a brother to me Alistair, and I'll need your help every step of the way."

Alistair nodded, plastering a grin on his face. "Well, that's me, isn't it? Good old Alistair." Then he got up suddenly, brushing the grass off his legs. "Thanks for clearing it up, Kallian. I should erm… I should go ready the pot."

Kallian watched as he walked away.

"Brilliant," she muttered to herself.

She lay her back on the grass, staring up at the sky. There weren't many clouds now, just wisps of white in the background. She closed her eyes and felt the breeze on her face, thinking for the millionth time how glad she was to leave the Frostbacks. There was a warm pressure against her right arm and she opened her eyes. Leliana was lying next to her, looking up at the sky.

"I told him," said the Warden.

"I know," said the bard, leaning her head against Kallian's shoulder.

"You do?"

"Well," said the sister, a small smile on her face. "Why else would he be sulking beside the fire?"

Kallian raised an eyebrow. "Um… aren't you being a bit too happy about this?"

Leliana chuckled. "I do feel sorry for him but…even he couldn't ignore what was happening."

"I guess…"

"And… how do you feel?" asked Leliana, brushing a strand of hair from the elf's eyes.

Kallian smiled wryly at her. "Fine. Better, even. It was getting way too awkward anyway."

The bard looked slightly troubled but smiled back.

The two lapsed into a comfortable silence, listening as the birds sang their last songs before evening. Autumn leaves floated down from all directions, and Kallian was suddenly reminded of her mother. Adaia had loved the maples and the humble, sombre colours of the season. It was rare to see her smile, but when she did, it made the world a much brighter place. Seeing the crisp, colourful leaves brought to mind memories fresh from the past.

The elf unsheathed the dagger from her belt, raising it in the air to gaze at it. The blade glinted in the sunlight, which revealed the faint green sheen of the metal. She twirled it around, admiring the rays reflecting off it.

"Can I see that?" asked Leliana suddenly, her voice oddly quiet.

Kallian handed it to her with the sheath. She watched as Leliana pulled it out and examined it. The elf frowned as the sister's eyes widened. Leliana turned to her, as if seeing a ghost. She sat up, looking down.

"What's wrong?" asked the elf, also sitting up.

"Kallian, where did you get this?"

Kallian gave her a strange look before replying. "My mother."

"Did she… was she dark skinned with brown hair and light eyes?"

The elf nodded, brows raised. Of course, she had never known anyone outside of her Alienage to see elves matching that description. But apart from Adaia, she could think of no one else. "You've met her?"

"Yes…" Leliana faltered. "We met… in the dungeons."

"Wait," said Kallian, eyes widening. "You."

" _Once… Someone who knew what was right. Someone who valued life and protected it."_

" _She was a light in the dark…"_

"Maker," breathed Kallian.

Her mind took her years back, when Adaia had once come to sing her to sleep…

" _Da'vhenan… what is it that troubles you?"_

 _The young elf shifted under the blankets. "I hate shems. I hate them all."_

 _Adaia sighed and sat on the edge. "Would that I could, I would have raised you elsewhere… child, this is not a place where the best of humans visit. You have not met all of them."_

 _Kallian shook her head. "It doesn't matter. One is enough."_

 _The older woman paused before laying a hand on her daughter's forehead. "Shall I tell you of when I rescued your uncle?"_

" _You snuck into the Arl's estate, took out the guards and sent uncle down a window with a rope. Yeah, I know that story."_

 _Adaia laughed. "Yes… but I did not tell you all of it."_

" _What more is there?"_

 _The woman's eyes darkened further as she remembered. "I was caught by the Arl's men, and taken down to the dungeons."_

 _Kallian sat up quickly, eyes wide. "The_ dungeons _?!"_

 _Adaia nodded. "You were too young and I had no desire to build on the hatred you already had."_

" _But… but mother!" said Kallian, eyes flashing. "The bastards!"_

 _Adaia sucked in her breath, giving her a stern look. "Language, Kallian." Then she sighed again. "Lie down and I shall tell you…"_

 _Her daughter still looked furious but relented. She lay down and glared at the opposite wall._

" _After your uncle escaped, my companions and I took the passage leading out. But we took the wrong turn and ended up in the common room. We tried to leave, but before we could, we were surrounded. It was a futile fight. My companions… none of them survived." Pain flickered across her face. "I was thrown into the dungeons, kept there for interrogation. They wanted to know where a city elf had learned these skills. If I had a benefactor, a lord who sent me. Perhaps the Arl's rival. I told them it was to save your uncle, but they would not believe me. They used… cruel methods to bring out the answer they wanted."_

 _Kallian bristled. Her dark eyes burned with hatred._

" _And I thought I would never leave. I thought I would die in the dungeons."_

 _"What happened?"_

 _"The unthinkable- a human saved me."_

" _What?"_

" _She was a prisoner, like I was."_

" _A human prisoner?" asked Kallian. For some reason, the fact that humans could also be mistreated by other humans had never occurred to her. All she had ever thought about was the repression of her people._

" _Yes," said Adaia, smiling. "She was a brave girl. A wonderful girl."_

 _Kallian didn't reply but her mother continued._

 _"She could have left me there and escaped alone. But she helped me find Fang and I managed to leave the castle. And when I left the place, I promised I would teach my daughter about humans like her."_

 _Her daughter stayed silent, brooding over this story until sleep had her under its command…_

Kallian stared at Leliana.

 _And when I left the place, I promised I would teach my daughter about humans like her…_

She felt a pang of guilt for not listening to her mother. For not believing her. Despite everything her mother had said, she had continued to despise the entire human race. And it was only now that her perspective had changed- by meeting the very person who had impressed Adaia so.

 _This is insane._

Kallian kept shaking her head. " _You're_ the one mother was talking about."

The bard blinked. "She talked about me?"

The elf laughed in disbelief. "Yes! Maker, she _always_ talked about you. _A light in the darkness_ , that's what she always said."

Leliana looked away. "I am… touched. But I don't deserve such a description."

Kallian grinned, emotion swelling in her chest. She reached out and took the woman's hand. "You saved my mother. That's enough to deserve it."

Leliana looked up and smiled back weakly. "Thank you. I am sorry she passed away… I would have wanted to meet her again."

"She would have liked that."

They remained like this until Alistair finished cooking, holding hands and staring at each other. And Kallian found that she didn't care if anyone saw them. She just didn't. All she could think about was how crazy everything was, how this could all just happen. It couldn't be coincidence. It couldn't be.

Wynne called them and Leliana made to get up. Kallian gripped her hand tighter and the bard glanced at her questioningly.

"Leliana, back in the Temple of Sacred Ashes… I saw your back."

A weary, guarded expression took hold of the sister's face.

"It was from the dungeons… wasn't it?"

Leliana's hand went slack and she sat down again. She nodded.

Wynne called again and Kallian stood up. "Wait here, I'll get the food."

She left the sister on the grass and fetched two bowls. They both ate in silence and Kallian walked over to get another helping. Leliana smirked a little at this.

"Appetite is still strong, I see," she teased.

Kallian grinned. "I'm a Warden, remember?"

When they finished the meal, Kallian took them over to a group of trees at the edge of camp. Night was descending, with the last of the rays casting a fey glow in the sky. Leliana hesitated but seemed to know there wasn't any point in avoiding the situation.

"I…" started Leliana. "I lied to you, you know. About why I left Orlais."

Kallian stiffened, hurt lancing through her chest. "Why?"

 _Didn't you trust me enough to tell me?_ she couldn't help thinking.

Leliana gave her a pained expression. "I didn't feel like talking about it then- what happened to me. Maybe it will affect us, maybe not, but… you should know."

The elf stood there patiently, listening and wondering. What could possibly be in her past that would change Kallian's opinion of her?

"I left Ferelden… because I was being hunted in Orlais."

" _Hunted_?" said Kallian, eyes narrowed. "What for?"

"I was framed," said Leliana, voice hollow. "Betrayed by someone I thought I knew and could trust. Marjolaine… she was my mentor and friend. She taught me the bardic arts, how to enchant with words and song, to carry myself like a high born lady, to blend in as a servant."

Kallian listened grimly- yes, she had noticed all these things. The way Leliana could capture people's attentions with her melodic voice, the natural grace and poise befitting a noblewoman…

"I used these skills to serve her, my bardmaster… because I loved her."

For a moment she didn't know what to say. Kallian opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. "But you did your duty," said the Warden, confused. "What happened?"

"I thought I knew her," replied Leliana quietly. "My devotion to her blinded me to her… less than noble attributes. You can say it was my fault. There was a man I was sent to kill and bring her everything he carried. I don't know who this man was. But I found documents on his body- sealed documents."

"And you opened them."

"Yes. Something told me that I needed to know what was in those letters. Marjolaine had been selling all kinds of information about Orlais to other countries; Nevarra, Antiva, among others. It was treason."

"And… I'm guessing this was beyond what bards normally do?"

"Our loyalties are always kept fluid. But something of this scale is dangerous for any bard. My concern was not that she was a traitor, but that her life would be in danger if she was caught. Orlais has been at war with so many countries… it takes a harsh of view of such things, as I later discovered."

Hearing this, Kallian felt a stab of jealousy mixed with disgust for this Marjolaine. How could anyone take advantage of her like this? Or anyone, for that matter?

"Who did you give the documents to?"

"Marjolaine. No one else. I resealed and gave them to her, as she had instructed. I should have left well alone but I didn't. I confronted her and she admitted to her guilt, but she brushed aside my concerns. She said that it was in the past- that was why they had to be destroyed. I believed her… I believed her up until the point where they showed me the documents, altered by her hand to make me look the traitor."

Kallian stared at her in helpless incredulity. _That… bitch!_

"What happened then?" she forced herself to ask.

Leliana swallowed and gazed into the darkness, no doubt reliving her memories. "The Orlesian guards captured me. Did… terrible things to make me reveal my conspirators. I lost a dear friend of mine, and endured a traitor's punishment. And after that, all that awaited me was eternity in an unmarked grave."

"And you didn't take revenge?"

The bard shook her head. "No. If I had returned to confront her, she would have me captured again. What could I do against her? So I fled to Ferelden, to the Chantry and the Maker. Ferelden protected my person and the Maker saved my soul. And that is the reason, the _real_ reason I am here."

Kallian stood there quietly, gazing at Leliana's silhouette in the darkness.

 _Maker, how did she survive all this?_

Upon meeting her, Kallian had taken the sister's words for granted. All that talk about the Maker and faith… of course she didn't see reality, she had thought. She was a pampered chantry sister, living in the comfort of ignorance. Away from dirt and squalor, away from suffering. She couldn't have been more wrong.

Kallian took the bard's hand. "Ir abelas, ma vhenan," she said, forgetting that the sister wouldn't understand. "I promise… you will be safe with me. I will protect you."

She saw Leliana smile faintly in the darkness.

"Thank you… for listening to me, and understanding."

"I'll always be here for you," said Kallian.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 _Leliana sagged against the chains, vision flickering. The wet stone walls blurred and split in two, then fused again. Her screams were still echoing in the chambers, and she could almost hear the pitter patter of feet as rats fled. Boots thudded on the ground, coming toward her. He was taking his time, enjoying the slow struggle. The woman's head lolled on her neck in exhaustion. Her back was searing, stabbing, ripping and swelling in agony. There wasn't a single inch of skin that wasn't bruised. She had never thought it possible to feel so many different types of pain all at once._

 _It was his specialty, he had said. To teach bitches like her not to lie._

 _Leliana hung there, swinging slightly. Her breath came in ragged gasps, and she was almost past the point of feeling. She begged inwardly to let it stop. Someone, anyone who could hear her…_

 _If he would let the darkness take her, to end this. Because it wasn't merely physical- the gods were feeding on a feast of her pain. She had thought the world had ended when her mother died. Everything in life lost its colour, lost its joy. But she realized that the true pain was meeting Marjolaine. It was all a cruel deception- a wonderfully pleasant, alluring lie._

 _To die at the hands of a seductress… was it worth it?_

 _She laughed weakly, closing her eyes._

" _Think this is funny, do you?" her torturer sneered. "We'll see if you're laughing after this!"_

 _There was a crack and the sound of tearing flesh, both eclipsed by the scream that burst from her lips. The man laughed and whipped her again and again, drawing deep trenches in her skin. The curved barbs caught in the flesh and she screamed again, despite her weariness. Her back arched in torment as he pulled it out. Leliana hung limply, almost falling to the floor had the chains not been there._

 _The man tutted mockingly and threw the whip on the floor._

 _Leliana alternated between sobbing and gasping as even the slightest movement set her back on fire. She cried and begged, seeking reprieve._

Kill me! I want to die! _She thought in anguish._

" _That'll teach you," he said, unchaining her. She collapsed to the floor._

 _The man dragged her over to her cell and threw her down. Leliana lay there as the moonlight streamed in through the high window. For a time, she did not have the strength to even cry. She lay face down, away from the pain in her back. Her hair was bloodied and plastered to her face, slick with sweat._

Please, anyone…

 _The bard sobbed and shook in the cold stone cell, cheek pressed against the floor and praying for the nightmare to end._

"Leliana?"

The bard sobbed in the darkness of her tent, tears soaking through her blankets. She was lying face down, her back still burning intensely. Leliana buried herself deeper within the blanket, not wanting Kallian to see her. But she couldn't stop crying and the tremors came in greater waves with each second. Strong hands rolled her on her side.

"Maker, Leliana… it's alright. It's just a dream," soothed the elf.

The bard covered her face with her hands, still trembling. And when Kallian drew her to her, embracing her with warm arms, Leliana heaved even more violently.

"You're safe," said Kallian, cradling her. "I'm with you," she murmured, and Leliana felt her sobs die down slightly at the sound of her low voice.

The woman gripped the elf's tunic tightly, crying into the shirt until the last of her tears drained away. By the end of it she felt like an empty well, dried up in the heat of drought. Leliana kept her face buried in the front of Kallian's shirt.

When the elf tried to lay her down, the bard still clung to her.

"Leliana, er…"

"I… I don't want you to see my face," said the sister.

At this, Kallian laughed softly. "I won't."

Leliana hesitated before allowing them to separate. The sudden absence of pressure was like a blizzard hitting the slopes of a mountain. There was movement as Kallian stood. Leliana panicked and felt around for her arm.

"Stay with me."

"Of course," Kallian said. "I was planning on staying. I'm just going to get my bedroll."

She let the elf leave but every second alone in her tent was agony. Leliana tried to dispel the images of her dream, gritting her teeth with the memory of each whip strike.

At last, the flap rustled and Kallian came in to spread the bedroll on the ground. Leliana relaxed as Kallian's warm form pressed against her. The elf reached out with a hand and hugged the bard to her.

"I'm with you," she murmured. "I'm with you, emma lath. Don't be afraid."

Leliana felt the warmth seep into her body and sighed in relief. She laid her cheek on Kallian's shoulder.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"You know I would do anything for you," replied Kallian.

The bard closed her eyes, smiling as fresh tears slid down. Kallian must have felt the moisture on her shirt. She tightened the embrace and kissed the top of her head.

"I love you," said Leliana, leaning into the elf.

"And I you," said Kallian.

And that night, Leliana slipped into dreams. Dreams of journeying through the wild Hinterlands, following the Warden and the others. And in that dream, Kallian turned around and smiled at her, dark eyes glinting so brightly in the sun they were almost gold.


	19. Chapter 18: Truth Hurts

_**So here's the next chapter guys ^^ How's everyone finding the story so far? I know it's quite different to DAI and it can be a bit depressing... make sure to let me know your thoughts in the reviews**_

 **CHAPTER 18: Truth Hurts**

Everyone looked up as Oghren stumbled out of his tent, scowling.

"Ach! Leliana, get this stupid beast out of here!"

Kallian laughed as a pink animal squealed and bounced out. Leliana ran over and picked up the nug, cradling it to her.

"I am sorry Oghren, was he disturbing you?"

"No, but if he isn't careful I'm going to start thinking about how delicious he looks. A little taste of home, eh?" he said, sharpening his knife against a rock.

The bard held her nug away from him. "I will make sure Schmooples is never underfoot again."

The dwarf nearly choked, staring at her in disbelief. " _Schmooples?_ You named a nug Schmooples? The last thing we need around here is a walking snack named Schmooples!"

Kallian smirked and walked over to them. She took the nug from Leliana and rubbed its belly.

"Sorry Leliana, I have to agree with him on that."

The bard put her hands on her hips. "What's wrong with his name?"

"Well…" said Kallian.

"It's a cute name!" protested Leliana.

"I can help you pick a diff-"

"I'll take him, thank you very much," said the bard, glaring at her.

"Just remember who gave him to you," replied Kallian, grinning.

"Ooh, a lovers' quarrel already?" said a familiar slippery voice. Zevran's teeth glinted in the sunlight. "This should be interesting."

Oghren grunted. "First Branka and now this? Where are all the available women?"

"Well, we still have the beautfiul Morrig-"

"Don't even think about it, elf," hissed the witch, glaring.

Wynne watched from afar, stirring the pot. Alistair, meanwhile, continued to sharpen his sword, staring at the ground.

Oghren burped loudly and everyone within a few meter's radius of him stepped out of his way. "Well, you should think about it, Morrigan. Ever thought of getting yourself a husband?"

"What, tie myself to another with bonds of servitude? It serves no purpose," scoffed the witch.

"Don't you want little Morrigans running about some day? The pitter-pat of little witchy feet?"

"My mother needed no husband to have her daughters."

"You can land yourself a proper husband if you just show a bit more skin."

"Is that how you "landed" your own wife? No wonder she turned to her own sex for comfort," retorted Morrigan acidly.

Even Zevran cringed at that. The others looked uncomfortable, moving away from the conversation. Leliana took Schmooples over to a shady area.

"Ouch. Now that's just mean," grumbled the dwarf. He turned to Kallian, who wrinkled her nose at the smell of ale and feet. "So," he said, taking a swig of the wineskin. "With the Chantry girl eh?"

The elf nodded. "Yes-"

"Rolling your oats," cut in the dwarf, bouncing his eyebrows.

"I'm sorry, what-"

"Polishing the footstones."

"Hang on-"

"Forging the moaning statue. Donning the velvet hat."

Kallian's face flushed bright red. "Are you just making these up right now?"

"Nope. Been saving 'em."

"Well, we haven't-"

"Ah, but you will soon. A woman's gotta relieve tension too. Say, how do two girls even do it?"

Kallian stared at him.

Oghren grunted. "Alright, suit yourself. I could ask that elf over there," he said, sauntering to Zevran.

Kallian didn't want to know how the assassin would have any idea about that.

She tried not to think about this conversation as she sat herself next to Leliana. The bard gave her the cold shoulder. Kallian chuckled and put an arm around her.

"Okay, I'm sorry. I won't make fun of the name again."

Leliana turned around ever so slightly, fixing her with one eye. "Really?"

The elf nodded, smiling. She leaned and pressed her lips to that flawless cheek. A ghost of a smile flit across the woman's face but she resumed her cool composure.

"Apology accepted. But Schmooples needs something too, no?"

Kallian felt a sudden weight on her lap and looked down to see the nug.

"You will be caring for him today," said the bard with a smirk.

The elf let her jaw drop in dismay. "Aw, come on!"

"Now, none of that," said Leliana slyly. She held the elf's chin with a finger and kissed her on the mouth. Kallian's eyelids drooped involuntarily. She tried to open them, with difficulty.

"The last time I did, he ran away five times," the elf grumbled. "It took hours to find him again."

"If you follow my instructions..." said the woman in her ear. "I'll make sure you get something in return."

Kallian's ears twitched. "Um..."

"Agreed?"

The Warden sighed. "Alright."

"Good," said the bard. "Then I can start packing. Wynne won't be too-"

"Oh, God!" said Kallian, groaning.

Leliana laughed at the growing wet patch on Kallian's pants. Schmooples squealed, looking slightly guilty.

"This is exactly why I didn't want to do this!"

"Oh, stop complaining," said Leliana, still giggling. She took the nug into her arms again. "You only need to get changed."

"Yeah, like that's going to help... now I'm going to smell like piss for the whole day."

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"Kallian, a word if you please?"

The elf stopped in her tracks, looking back quizzically at Wynne. Everyone else paused but Kallian signalled for them to continue.

"I'll catch up in a bit," she said to Leliana.

The bard nodded but her face was strangely guarded when she glanced at the mage.

Kallian frowned and turned to join Wynne under the tree.

"Are you quite sure this is the right decision?"

The Warden nodded resolutely. "It's better if we take care of this issue first, otherwise we'll be walking around Ferelden constantly at risk of attack from this mystery person."

"Is that really the reason? Or is it because you want to protect Leliana?"

Kallian's mouth clamped shut. She narrowed her eyes at the insinuation in the older woman's tone.

Wynne shook her head. "You are letting your emotions get in the way. There is no time to make poor judgements."

The elf made a disbelieving noise. "Wynne… I can't believe you think that I'd be that..." She shook her head. "I've thought about this long and hard."

"And yet the best of us can often act foolishly," said the mage persistently. "I've seen the way she looks at you, the familiarity with which you speak, how she always finds a way to place herself next to you."

Kallian hadn't expected to keep this a secret from Wynne, but to hear these things from the older woman made her blush. She felt like a scolded child.

"I've noticed your blossoming relationship and I wanted to ask you where you thought it was going."

The elf stared at her. "What do you mean by _where it's going_? It's going where all relationships go."

Wynne fixed her with a stern gaze. "You are a _Grey Warden_. You have responsibilities that supersede your personal desires."

Kallian shook her head. "I won't let it get in the way of doing what's right."

The expression on the mage's face was strict and unyielding. "You are young, and you are inexperienced. Love is ultimately selfish. It demands that one be devoted to a single person, who may fully occupy one's mind and heart, to the exclusion of all else."

"Maker's breath," muttered Kallian. "You sound like Morrigan."

Wynne looked rather offended by this but recovered smoothly. "I know you may not like what I say, but there was some reason behind her opposition to your decision."

Now the Warden narrowed her eyes. The mage had never been so stubborn before- if it was a question of judgement, Wynne had always approved of her decisions. But her relationship with Leliana was one she was determined to keep for as long as she lived. And she was tired of hearing others tell her what they perceived to be right.

"I'm not doing this blindly."

"Think of it this way then- you may be faced with a critical situation in the future. Imagine if you were forced to make a choice between saving your love and saving everyone else. Then what would you do?"

Kallian hesitated, feeling a bit sick in the stomach. "You don't know if that will happen."

"Nothing is certain in these times. You cannot take anything for granted. I wanted you to be aware of this."

"I thought... you of all people would support us," said the elf quietly.

Wynne paused for a strained moment before replying. "I will always support you, child. But that doesn't mean my methods will be to your liking."

The elf felt the life drain away from her. It was almost like going back to her hopeless life in the Alienage. Back when everyone told her it was forbidden and that she didn't know what she was doing.

"I know what you're trying to say," said Kallian in resignation. "But I also ask that you trust me on this. I _will_ make the right choice."

Wynne regarded her cautiously. "I sincerely hope that you do."

She turned to join the rest of the group on the road, leaving Kallian standing there feeling deeply disturbed and slightly angry. She knew Wynne meant well, but it was like she'd been punched in the gut. And as she gazed at Leliana's back, the elf suddenly felt the physical distance between them stretch from meters to miles.

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"Seems like the person knows who he's dealing with," said Oghren, wiping his axe on the carpet.

"Not he. She," said Leliana without feeling. She walked with Kallian to open the door.

" _She?_ " said the dwarf, shaking his head. "Gone are the days when women were soft and sweet, I can tell you that."

Kallian glanced at the bard with those dark eyes- like a gathering storm. "Ready?"

Leliana nodded. "Ready," she replied resolutely.

Her heart was thumping in her chest like a war drum, but she didn't falter. It had to end here. It had to end now.

As soon as she entered, all the memories from years ago came rushing back to her. Leliana's throat constricted when she saw Marjolaine- the woman hadn't changed in the slightest. Dark voluminous hair, mysterious eyes and sensuous red lips. She sat on the sofa with all the grace of a noblewoman, radiating dark allure and deceptive composure. There was a richly adorned mirror on the low table, along with a silver cup of wine. Her bardmaster turned to observe her guests leisurely, mouth curving up into a charming smile.

"Ah, Leliana!" she said, her throaty voice flowing like liquid. The woman stood up in one fluid move, walking toward them with easy steps. "It is so lovely to see you again, my dear," she said amiably to Leliana.

The bard eyed her incredulously. One might think Marjolaine was her friend, greeting and asking her about the years she had missed. Leliana shook her head, unable to understand the audacity of the woman.

"Spare me the pleasantries, I know you're-" started Leliana, glaring at her.

"Oh, you must excuse the shabby accommodations," interrupted the bardmaster, waving an airy hand at the room. "I try to be a good host, but you see what I have to work with?"

Leliana tried again to talk, but Marjolaine had not lost her quickness with speech. "This country smells like wet dog. Everywhere," she said in disgust. "I cannot get the smell out. Even now it is in my hair, my clothes… urgh."

The group listened with growing puzzlement at the unexpected amicability. But Leliana wasn't fooled. Kallian made a noise of contempt and Leliana could see the elf's hand itching to raise the sword.

"Why did you send the assassins?"

The bardmaster put a hand on her hip. "So _business-like,_ your companion," she said, raking the elf once with her eyes appreciatively. Then she walked over to Kallian and the bard stiffened.

 _What's her game?_

Marjolaine fingered the dark hair, tutting. "Hmm. An elf, but perhaps more refined than the others. A little work could do wonders for you."

Kallian's eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. She smacked the hand aside and whipped the sword up to the woman's neck. "Get to the point."

"Marjolaine," said Leliana. "It's time we ended this. You framed me, had me caught and tortured. I thought I was free of you here in Ferelden. Why do you want me dead so badly?"

"Dead?" asked the woman in mock surprise. "I know you, my Leliana. I know what you are capable of. Four, five men? You can dispatch of easily." Her eyes flicked to the blade at her throat and she smiled further. "They were sent to give you cause to come to me. And see? Here you are… does that answer your question?"

It was addressed deliberately to Kallian. The elf scowled in disgust. "I don't believe you. Spill the truth or I'll cut that tongue of yours."

"Ohh, very violent," tutted Marjolaine, an expression of false surprise on her face. Leliana wondered how the bardmaster could retain her composure with a sword at her neck. "That will not do. I thought your interests would be in a softer character, Leliana. But then again… you have always liked danger."

"What are you up to, Marjolaine?" demanded the bard, tired of these games. "Why are you here in Ferelden?"

At last, the bardmaster's eyes darkened, betraying her motive. "In truth, you have valuable information that can be used against me. For my own safety, I cannot let you be." She gave a false laugh. "Did you think I did not know where you were? Did you think I would not watch my Leliana? "What is she up to?" I thought. "You were planning something. So, I watched… but no letters were sent. No messages. You barely spoke to anyone. But then you left the Chantry, so suddenly. What conclusion must I draw? You tell me."

Leliana stared at her in mixed revulsion and shock. It was pitiful. Pitiful to think they had spent all those years together and to realize her bardmaster had never really known her…. That _she_ had never really known Marjolaine. Right now, standing in front of her former lover, she felt nothing but disgust.

"You thought… I left the Chantry because of _you_? You are insane!" she shouted. "Paranoid!"

"If you think she's the sort to take pointless revenge, you must never have known her," said Kallian, eyeing the woman with contempt.

"Oh, is that what you think? If I were you, I would believe nothing she says. Not a one. You might end up in bed with a knife through your chest. The girl can be quite vicious with her lovers. Isn't that right, Leliana?"

The bard glared at her furiously.

 _Don't listen to her Kallian,_ she secretly begged. _It's not true, not with you._

"I am not you, Marjolaine," Leliana shot back. "I left because I didn't want to become you."

"Oh, but you _are_ me," said the woman with a cruel laugh. "You cannot escape it. No one will understand you the way I do."

Leliana stiffened as Marjolaine leaned in with a glint in her eyes, letting the blade draw blood from her neck.

"Do you know why you were a master manipulator, Leliana?" she asked lazily. "You _enjoyed_ the Game. You _revelled_ in the power it gave you. You cannot change or deny this."

"Shut your mouth!" the Warden snarled. "She's _nothing_ like you!"

"And you think you can kill me, elf?" said Marjolaine, eyes flashing. "Think again!"

Everyone watched in surprise as the bardmaster twisted away from the elf's sword, fast. She shoved Kallian back and lunged for the mirror on the table. A long blade protruded from the handle she pulled out. Another dagger emerged from under her sleeve.

Kallian swung her sword, sparks flying as it hit the daggers. There was a loud scraping as the two locked weapons. At the same time, there were clanking footsteps as more guards flooded into the room.

Morrigan raised up a wall of fire, but Marjolaine's mage warded the men. Leliana and Kallian traded blows with the bardmaster furiously. The Orlesian was astonishingly agile, dodging attacks that limited movement. She used the furniture to evade the sword, landing accurate kicks and cuts on their arms. Leliana felt warmth seep into her as Wynne's spell healed her wounds. There was a sudden explosion from behind and Leliana was flung to the floor.

She looked up to see Morrigan returning a ferocious wind of ice crystals at the other mage. The rest of the group was tackling the guards in the corner. Kallian moved in to engage Marjolaine, eyes cold and hard.

Leliana rolled to stand and joined her lover. Even with the two of them attacking at once, the woman held her own. She didn't flinch as Kallian brought down a heavy strike on her dagger. The weight did bring her to her knees, however, and she could see the strain it had on her. Leliana took the opportunity to draw several gashes on her limbs and torso.

Marjolaine hissed and weakened, but still had the strength to twist away. She kicked the bard off her feet and slashed Kallian's side. The elf doubled over, growling. Leliana looked up to see the bardmaster staggering away, clutching her bleeding torso.

The bard advanced, her daggers glinting in the candlelight.

All the guards were dead now, with only the mage exchanging blasts of magic with Morrigan. Everyone else gathered around threateningly, watching Marjolaine back away.

"I took the blame, Marjolaine," said Leliana, walking towards her. "And I never had any intention of going back. You should have let me be when you had the chance."

The bardmaster was looking pitifully wild and manic now, her eyes flashing like a hare caught in a trap.

"My dear Leliana, you cannot expect me to believe that, do you?"

When the bard continued to advance, Marjolaine's face contorted into an ugly expression.

"Very well. If I must die… then I will not die alone!" she snarled and hurled her dagger before anybody could respond. Leliana dodged but cried out as it sailed past her to Kallian. The elf didn't even have time to bring her shield up. It pierced her armour and lodged itself in the chest.

"Kallian!" screamed Leliana.

"Argh!" the elf growled, dropping to her knees and clutching the handle.

The situation reminded her frighteningly of that night… the night when Marjolaine had stabbed her. Her world had become an explosion of pain and loss.

 _Not this time,_ thought Leliana. _You won't take anymore from me!_

The bard sprang up and beat the woman down with a ferocious whirlwind of slashes. In her state of injury, Marjolaine didn't have a chance. Leliana's dagger slipped past her defence and she disarmed the woman. As she stared down at her former bardmaster, all Leliana could feel was a cold numbness… and pity. Pity for the monster this woman had become.

"Kill me then," hissed Marjolaine, fear mixed with challenge in her eyes. Dark, but so unlike Kallian's.

At the thought of the elf, Leliana's eyes hardened, and she raised her dagger high in the air.

She brought it down.


	20. Chapter 19: Around the Campfire

**CHAPTER 19: Around the Campfire**

Kallian woke up to the disturbing sight of her own blood running from her arm into a wooden bowl. She groaned as a fresh wave of pain crashed into her. Her chest was burning like hell- even worse than the time she had an arrow through it in Ostagar. The elf leaned her head back on the pillow, gazing up at the ceiling. She was in a tent- most likely back at camp.

The memory of Marjolaine's snake like voice came to mind. She remembered Leliana's crestfallen expression and later, how hardened it was. It worried her, it worried her sick.

She was still thinking on this when faint voices neared the tent. Shadows of two people appeared on the thin material.

"… and we'll just balance it out before she regains consciousness," said Wynne.

"When will she-?"

"Soon, my child. Soon."

The flap opened and the old mage entered, relaxing when she saw her.

"Ah, see?" she said with a smile. "She's awake already."

Leliana hurried in, opening the flap impatiently. Kallian craned her neck, trying not to let her muscles contract. The bard rushed to her side, taking her left hand.

"Oh, Kallian. Thank the Maker! I'm so sorry this happened," blurted the woman as Wynne examined the right arm. Her expression was pained as she continued, words tumbling out in a rush. "This is all my fault. I brought you into danger. All I could think about was Marjolaine and getting to Denerim. If only I-"

"Maker, slow down!" said Kallian, chuckling. She winced, instantly regretting it. "You don't need to apologize. I'm just glad it's all over. You're safe now."

"Yes, and you are also safe," said the mage, turning the arm over to seal it. A glow settled on the shallow cut and the flesh knit together. "I think that is enough blood for now. As for the wound…" She peeled away the bandage and tutted. "That dagger went in deep- I'm going to leave the mixture on until I can heal it."

Kallian did her best to look down at her chest and saw a small pile of leaves, roots and some paste the colour of bile.

Wynne straightened, cleaned around the wound again and re applied the bandage.

"That is all I can do. What you need is a good rest," she said, fixing the elf with a stern look. "And no moving." The mage nodded at Leliana before leaving the tent.

Kallian stroked the back of the bard's soft hand with her thumb. "How are you feeling?" she asked gently.

Leliana looked down incredulously at her. "You're asking me?" she said, gesturing at the elf's wound.

"I'm fine," said the Warden. "It's you I'm worried about." She paused, studying the woman's face with concern. "Is Marjolaine…?"

"Dead," said the bard, rather flatly. She took a deep breath. "I killed her."

"Must have been hard for you."

"It isn't something I haven't contemplated at times, but… prior to meeting her, I didn't think I could do it." Leliana's eyes hardened when she gazed down at the elf. "But when she threw the dagger at you, I had to. I _wanted_ to."

"Well… to be honest, I'm not sorry she's dead."

Leliana nodded, blue eyes turning mournful again. "It couldn't be helped. But… at the same time, I can't get what happened out of my head. I spent years at the Lothering Chantry. _Years_. And she still thought I was plotting against her. She didn't trust me," said the bard, looking down at the floor. "Maybe she never did. She loved me when she could use and control me. And now that she couldn't, she wanted me dead. It-" her voice cut off abruptly. Kallian could see the moisture in her eyes.

"We could talk about this another time, if you want," said the Warden.

Leliana shook her head stubbornly. "No. No, I need to tell you this." She paused before continuing. "I thought I had left it all behind. That time would cut off whatever bound me to her. But meeting Marjolaine again has affected me. It hurts to realize that I never really knew her. I knew she was ruthless, but didn't know how far she could go."

An expression of disgust replaced her features. "She is self centered and _cruel_. She uses people and then discards them. But that is how she was able to survive, I suppose. Kallian…" she said, suddenly looking troubled.

"Yes?"

"Kallian, what if she's right?" asked Leliana, blue eyes trembling. "What if we _are_ the same?"

The Warden looked up at her sadly, feeling her conflict. Feeling the pain.

"You're not. You can never be like her."

"You can't be sure of that," snapped the bard, causing the elf to blink in surprise. "You don't understand," said Leliana in a better tone. "What she said about my life as a bard… about me enjoying the Game. It was true. All true. And… when I killed her, I enjoyed that as well. Seeing her dead gave me satisfaction."

The bard hung her head, dejected. "I… I feel myself slipping."

"Leliana…" said Kallian cautiously, wondering what to say. She knew what Leliana wanted. She wanted an argument that would withstand the onslaught of guilt and accusations she directed at herself. Something strong enough to reassure her. But she also wanted the undecorated truth.

"You may have enjoyed it. You could resurrect her, have another chance. But sometimes… people don't deserve mercy."

Leliana shook her head impatiently. "It's not just her, it's… I enjoyed the lies, Kallian. I enjoyed the betrayals and the killings. It was a terrible life I led."

"But you left it, Leliana," Kallian insisted. "And what you feel from time to time- it doesn't define you. We all have weaknesses, we all fall into traps."

The bard still looked doubtful. Kallian sighed and placed a hand on her arm, ignoring the pain in her shoulder.

"I know who you are, Leliana. Unlike Marjolaine, you saw what was right. You made a choice, and it was the right one. I wouldn't have you any other way."

At that, the Orlesian's lips curved up into a weak smile.

"Leliana," she tried again. "You confronted Marjolaine when no one else did. And you left that life behind to join the Chantry."

The sister's face fell again. "Did I? Did I really?" She buried her face in her hands. "Or was I just pretending?"

Kallian waited patiently in silence.

"I said I found peace in the Chantry," continued the woman. "But a small part of me tells me that I lied. That in truth, I felt bored. With you, here on the road and knowing the uncertainty of tomorrow… I feel alive again. It feels wrong somehow."

Kallian laughed softly.

"Look… maybe that life wasn't for you. You don't _have_ to be a Chantry sister to be Andrastian, you know. You once said that the Maker is all around us. He's not confined to some building. Besides," said Kallian with a grimace. "The other sisters didn't treat you well anyway. You should be somewhere you're appreciated."

It was a while before Leliana responded. "Perhaps... you are right. Perhaps I just need to accept this side of me. For now… I need more time to think on this."

Kallian nodded. "Definitely. Don't feel pressured."

Leliana looked at her gratefully, but the elf noted the disturbance in her eyes… like the churning of stormy seas.

"And… Leliana?"

"Yes?"

"Just know that I'm here if you need me. And… I love you. That will never change, I promise… even if you do."

Some of the weight lifted at those words, and Leliana bent down to press her lips against the elf's forehead.

"Thank you," she whispered.

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"Are you trying to impress me, Kallian?"

The Warden stopped at the teasing voice.

"Huh?"

Leliana's eyes glinted in the moonlight as the elf approached. Her mouth was stretched into a wide smile. The bard tapped on Kallian's arm and fingered the dripping hair.

"Woa, woa. Hang on," said the elf, chuckling. "Don't start jumping to conclusions."

"Am I?" asked the Orlesian. "Showing off your muscles, letting your hair fall like that… and is that new soap I smell?"

Kallian cleared her throat. "What's wrong with wanting to look and smell good? I don't have to do it to impress someone."

"Of course," said the bard with a straight face.

"For your information," explained the elf, pointing to her rolled up sleeves. "These are wet. And this is what my hair looks like when I wash it."

"Oh?" said Leliana, making a big show of studying Kallian. "That's strange… I'm sure it always looked like… this." She reached out to rearrange the dark hair.

"Hey!"

"There," Leliana said in satisfaction.

" _Thanks_ ," muttered Kallian, running a hand through her hair.

The sister laughed and leaned down to kiss the elf's cheek. "Oh, you are adorable."

Kallian grinned despite herself, happy that Leliana was happy. After their talk a week ago, she wasn't sure the bard would recover properly. It had to have left an emotional scar- things like that didn't heal easily. But here she was, laughing and teasing her mercilessly. Kallian smiled and decided to let Leliana have her fun.

The two walked back to the campsite in the darkness, shoulders touching. Kallian slipped her hand into Leliana's, trying not to grin like an idiot.

"You didn't have to come get me, you know," she said, though secretly she didn't mind.

"Of course I did," said Leliana, smiling and bumping the elf's shoulder with hers. "You never know what's out there."

Kallian rolled her eyes. "I can take care of myself, Leliana."

"With your wound still healing?"

"Definitely. I'm a Warden, remember?" she replied, flashing the bard a grin.

"You were taking a bath," Leliana pointed out with a teasing smile.

"Ahem, exactly. Privacy should be respected."

"Oh, I don't think the Darkspawn care about that."

"Ah, but you should."

Leliana raised her brows in mock surprise. "My, my, Kallian. Whatever makes you think I don't?"

"My dear bard," said Kallian, imitating Zevran with a lopsided grin. "Do not think I have forgotten what you said to me at Denerim."

The sister giggled. "Don't be silly, I was just teasing. Besides," she said. "I wanted to see your response."

"You could have made it more obvious."

"But then I would have lost the upper hand, no?"

"Maker, you're cruel. You just left me more confused than ever."

"You can't complain," said Leliana. "What about you and Alistair?"

Kallian raised an eyebrow. "What about us?"

"Well, I thought there was something between the two of you."

"Riiight…"

" _And_ you were married to a man."

"That didn't even last a day."

"Nevertheless, you were married."

"Well…"

Leliana gave a theatrical sigh. "So what was a girl to do? I suppose I had to make the confession."

"Yeah, sorry about that…"

"Never mind," said the bard with another sigh. Then her eyes glinted again in the darkness. _What's she up to now?_

"You can still make up for it," said Leliana, her voice tinged with mirth.

"In what-?"

A shriek pierced the air, shrill and angry. The two exchanged looks of alarm and raced back to camp. Kallian arrived first, casting her eyes about. She lowered her sword when she saw Alistair laughing uncontrollably.

"Maker, what's going on?" she asked, frowning.

Morrigan burst out of her tent, fuming. Fire was literally issuing from her nostrils. The witch flung the object down on the ground and everyone gathered around to see. A closer look revealed that it wasn't an object at all- it was a toad. The slimiest, most grotesque toad she had ever seen. It was monstrous. When it turned its bulging, shiny black eyes on them, Kallian cringed.

"What's wrong, Morrigan?" mocked Alistair. "Aren't witches supposed to use toads for their potions?"

"That is a preposterous myth perpetuated by imbeciles like you! How dare you enter my tent and bring this… this filthy creature inside!"

Wynne sighed. "Alistair…" she said warningly.

"Well I never," said Oghren. "Hic, thash the shmallesht Darkspawn I've ever sheen."

And, with his bare hand, the dwarf picked up the toad and swung his arm drunkenly. Everyone watched as the toad was thrown far away into the bushes.

"A fine job, my friend," said Zevran, patting him on the back.

Alistair was still chortling, hacking away at the figurine he was carving. Morrigan stomped up to him and wrenched it away from his grasp.

"Hey!"

"The only thing that is preventing me from transforming you into one of those vermin is because you are a Grey Warden," she hissed. "Come anywhere near my tent again and I shall tell the elf of your-"

"Alright, alright!"

"Good," she said, stalking away to her tent and muttering. "And to think that blockhead is a candidate for the throne! 'Tis a grave mistake!"

Kallian shook her head, smirking. She sat next to the other Warden.

"Oh, that was priceless. Did you see her face?"

"It was pretty scary. So, what… that was your revenge?"

Alistair laughed. "Yep. And the first."

The elf raised an eyebrow. "You're planning another one? But you can't go into her tent anymore."

"I don't have to. There are other ways," said the man with a glint in his eye.

"Whatever it is, leave me out of it. I already have enough trouble with Leliana and Morrigan arguing."

"Have it your way," said Alistair, the laughter dying down. He suddenly took great interest in the fire. "I suppose you have to, being her… lover."

"Er…yeah."

"You look good together."

"Thanks…"

"Holding hands, ogling each other, walking through the forest… very romantic."

"…Ogling each other?"

Alistair smirked. "You know, that lingering, longing look. The googly eyes."

Kallian felt her face warm up. "Do I really look at her that way?"

"You so totally do. It makes me gag with jealousy, actually."

Kallian snorted. "Go find a girl, Alistair. There are plenty out there."

"Maybe I will," said the other Warden. "Maybe someone will appreciate my hair obsession and love for fine cheese."

She grinned. "I'm sure…"

"But… you should know. It's not going to be easy."

Kallian stayed silent, not knowing what to say.

"We've been through a lot together, haven't we? We've been through thick and thin. And you know me like no one else does."

"Thanks, Alistair… but I'm the _only_ girl you've been close to. Maybe with more experience…"

Alistair rolled his eyes. "I know, I got the same advice from Oghren."

"Oghren?" said Kallian, chuckling.

"He might be a smelly, perverted dwarf but he knows women."

"He's also a dwarf whose marriage fell apart."

"That's because his wife had a lover. A female lover, might I add."

Kallian felt a stab of guilt. "I... see your point."

Alistair paused thoughtfully. Then: "You really love her, don't you?"

The elf stared into the fire with him. She nodded seriously. "I do."

"Then that's enough for me."

Kallian grinned at him. "You're a good man, Alistair."

Alistair grinned back, brown eyes warm in the firelight. "We're Grey Wardens, right? Grey Wardens look out for one another."

"Damn right."

The two watched as Leliana played with Schmooples, Sten stood like a statue at the perimeter, Talon slept while Zevran and Oghren sat drinking.

A loud burp disturbed the air, startling the others.

"Hey, elf," said the dwarf. "You're all right."

"Am I?" said the assassin in amusement.

"Aye. I was jist thinkin' that you're… you're jist all right."

The Antivan chuckled. "Drunk again, Oghren?"

"Hehe, you sound like… my father. He was all, "You're drunk…Stop wettin' on my table."

"How dare he."

"Least my mom had the… sense to hide the _hic_ , booze from him. So, ya know… she could drink where he couldn't see her," Oghren slurred.

"That's heartwarming."

"Hey buddy… let's not go crazy or… anythin'. Keep yer pants where I can see 'em."

"Oghren. If you want to bed me, you have only to ask."

"Draw yer sword and say that again!"

"I jest, my foul-smelling friend. You are only slightly less attractive to me than a slime-filled pool of swamp water."

Oghren grunted, taking another swig of ale. "Better be."

"You have my oath."

"Bloody Antivans."

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The air was chilly and the wind was blowing through the trees, stirring up the fire and rattling her tent frame. But as Leliana stood there at the flap, her chest felt warm as she regarded the elf sitting on the log. She suppressed a laugh, watching Kallian bent over a book and wondering what she was so focused on. The Warden's hair kept falling into her eyes and Kallian blew it away irritably.

After what happened with Marjolaine, the bard thought she would not be able to laugh again. There was too much history, too many emotions she had invested in that relationship. It had been such a big part of her life… and when the truth had sunk in, it had ripped away a significant portion of herself. But now she found herself smiling again. Laughing and joking, being free. Being happy.

Yes, there would be times when Marjolaine's face would haunt her at night. Times when she would relive those terrible moments and scream in fear. But here with Kallian, she felt safer than she had been for years.

Leliana recalled the dark storms in the elf's eyes when they first met. She remembered the bitter, angry words and cold glares of warning. How she had changed…

Kallian lifted her gaze as the bard approached. She quickly snapped the book closed and hid it behind her.

"What were you doing?" asked the sister teasingly.

The Warden looked embarrassed. "Um… just, writing."

"Writing?" said Leliana curiously. "About what?"

Kallian cleared her throat. "I was writing… in my journal," she said reluctantly.

Leliana made a noise of delight. "Oh, I didn't know you had a journal!"

"Yeah, I, er… sometimes write in it."

"Can I see it?"

"Haha… you're joking, right?"

"Why, is there something you don't want me to see?" asked the bard, smiling slyly.

"Maybe…"

"Alright, then... I suppose there's nothing else for me to do. I think I might… retire early," said Leliana, flicking her hair and making sure Kallian had a full view of her expression. "A soft, _warm_ bedroll is _perfect_ for a cold night like this, no?"

Kallian seemed relieved. She nodded. "Yeah, you should go get some sleep. Alistair has some extra blankets if you need one."

 _Um…_

Perhaps she hadn't been clear enough. Leliana tried again.

"Thank you… but before I go, I could help make a suggestion for the entry."

"Erm, that's alright. I've almost finished it."

The bard resisted the urge to sigh. Maker, she had forgotten how obtuse the elf could be in such matters. Leliana leaned in close. "Dear diary," she said in a low voice. "I promised Leliana today that I would make up for her embarrassing confession a few months ago. She invited me to her tent, but alas… subtlety is lost on me."

Kallian blinked for a few seconds, then blushed furiously. "…Oh."

The bard laughed at the expression. "Now she gets it!"

Kallian looked around to see if anybody was still awake. Everyone apart from Sten was in their tents. The giant regarded them with disinterested eyes and returned his attention to watching for enemies.

"Well?"

The elf swallowed visibly. She pulled at the collar of her shirt. "A-are you sure?"

"Oh, don't second guess me," said Leliana finally in exasperation. "Now come. And no arguing this time!" She took the elf's hand and pulled her to her tent.

They entered it and everything was plunged in darkness. For a few minutes, Leliana stood there with Kallian's hand in hers. She couldn't see the elf's face but was certain Kallian could see hers. Only the elf's eyes were visible, glowing like those of a cat. The bard sat down on the bedroll and pulled the Warden down with her. She heard Kallian's breath quicken and, by instinct and touch, the two kissed.

The moment their lips met, Leliana felt all thought leave her mind. Kallian sighed into the kiss and they lowered themselves to the ground, bodies pressed against each other. Hot breaths mingled and the bard shivered as Kallian ran her fingers through her hair. Leliana's body awakened to her lover's touch, sinking into the depths of ecstasy as she felt smooth skin…

She opened her eyes when the elf suddenly stopped.

"Kallian?"

"Uh," said the Warden, panting. "I have no idea what I'm meant to do."

Leliana burst out laughing and placed a hand on the back of the elf's neck. She pulled her down into another kiss. When they drew apart, the bard smiled and whispered into a pointed ear.

"You don't need to worry about that, my love. Just follow me."


	21. Chapter 20: Mien'harel

**CHAPTER 20: Mien'harel**

The group stiffened in surprise as twenty or so arrows were trained on them, the tips just inches from their faces. Leliana's neck tingled as she felt the close proximity of the weapons.

The Dalish had them surrounded with astonishing speed and stealth, dropping down from the branches and rolling in from all directions. Their nimble feet barely made a sound on the hard dirt and leaves.

Cold eyes watched unblinking from smooth, angular faces. Deep trenches of gold ink wove haunting patterns through the skin. An involuntary shiver travelled down her spine- she could almost feel the agony of the blade searing flesh.

The front row of elves parted like water to let their leader pass. Leliana watched them move with both unease and curiosity- there was a distinct grace and fluidity to their actions that was comparable to their cousins in the city. A woman came forward, hawkish eyes burning with long practised hostility. Her lips curled in disdain at the humans and barely concealed disapproval of Kallian and Zevran.

"Outsiders," she said, as if the word tasted unpleasant to her. "You have trespassed in Dalish territory, as you may have guessed. I suggest you leave… and quickly, before we change our minds."

"Atisha," said Kallian in response.

Leliana could see her shoulders tense with caution but the elven woman lifted her brow at the word.

"We have come on important business and must speak with your leader."

The woman scowled but curiosity flickered on her marked face. "What business could _you_ have with the Dalish?" she asked challengingly.

"Oh, she's feisty, isn't she?" whispered Zevran.

"Beware of that one," grunted Oghren. "Keep her far away from yer heart… and yer bed."

Both earned a prod with the arrows.

Leliana, on the other hand, held her breath. Tension charged the air.

She felt, rather than saw Kallian frown in irritation. Her pointed ears twitched. " _That_ is for the Keeper's ears only," she shot back.

There was a long pause as the two stared each other down. Several of the elves' ears twitched but their arms were stock still, maintaining the position without even a slight deviation in angle.

Then the Warden murmured foreign words in a low tone. It must have struck something in the woman, because the Dalish elf held up a hand. Her archers lowered their bows and stepped back in unison. However, their watchful gazes never left the 'outsiders'.

"You are obviously no ordinary trespasser," said the woman, eyeing Kallian with grudging interest. "I will leave it to the Keeper to decide the importance of your… business." She turned around to lead them, but stopped abruptly. "And keep your hands to yourself- remember that our arrows are still trained on you," she said sharply. "Come with me."

"Well… that was a pleasant welcome," Alistair remarked as he followed.

"What did you expect? Trumpets heralding your arrival as future king of Ferelden?" said Morrigan acidly, looking more tired and irritable than usual.

"Did you hear something Leliana?"

The bard didn't have much strength to respond. She simply dragged her aching legs along as the elf led them down a rough path. It didn't take too long, but the endless wall of trees and the fine mist settling over the forest made it seem like forever. Gradually, the mist thinned and the path opened out to a clearing busy with activity. Leliana's eyes widened as she beheld the sight- one that few humans had lived to witness.

Colourful tents were scattered about the area, and the air was filled with the fluid, meandering language of the elves. Leliana stared at the Dalish as they stared back with a wary intensity that suddenly reminded her of the first time she met Kallian. The tattoos on their faces seemed to burn in the sunlight- even on those of young ones.

She followed their captor to a large pavilion in the distance that dwarfed the others. As they passed through the crowd, the Dalish whispered and murmured in a tone that perturbed her. A tall, lithe figure waited at the entrance. He held himself with a regality and intelligence that rivalled the nobles of Orlais. And in Orlais, appearances were everything.

At a closer glance, his head was clean shaven. His tattoo was a central stem rising from between his brows, branching out on both sides. A curved line extended across his jaws from the corner of his lips like extra teeth.

"What is this Mithra?" he demanded sharply. "I have not the time or the patience to deal with outsiders…" his voice trailed off when he saw Kallian.

"I understand," said Mithra stiffly. "But this one claims to have important… business with our people."

"I see," said the Keeper slowly, still eyeing the Warden with a gaze that could bore a hole into the rocks. "And what business could these guests possibly have with us?"

"We're here to recruit the aid of the Dalish," said Kallian without hesitation.

At this, the Keeper bristled. "We owe service to no one, stranger. Who are you to ask of this?"

"We are Grey Wardens," said Alistair, stepping forward to support her. "You owe service to us."

"Grey Wardens, is it?" mused the tall elf, a wry smile stretching his thin lips. "You might have simply said so in the beginning. How you managed to let Mithra bring you here is beyond me. We hardly ever allow outsiders in… least of all shemlen."

Leliana felt a jolt of unjustified guilt at the word- as if she was responsible for the doings of her ancestors.

"She retains some of our language, Keeper," said Mithra, gesturing at Kallian. "More learned than most of the flat-ears."

" _Perhaps_ we should not use that term so easily in front of our guest here."

The woman hesitated but bowed. "Of course, ir abelas."

"You may return to your post."

The woman bowed again. "Ma nuvenin, Keeper." She whirled around and strode away.

The man turned back to the heroes. "My apologies. You must understand that we do not usually accept visitors… under such circumstances."

"We understand," said Kallian with a slight undertone of impatience.

"Now, allow me to introduce myself. I am Zathrian, the Keeper of this clan- its guide and preserver of ancient law. And… you are?"

"Kallian Tabris. Aneth ara," the Warden started off, introducing each of the heroes.

"Andaran atish'an," answered Zathrian, inclining his head to her. He still eyed her with that discomforting look, as if searching for clues. Kallian's eye twitched uncomfortably under his gaze.

"Forgive me," said the Keeper, noticing her reaction. "You are… somewhat familiar to me. Though I am sure we have never met."

"No," said Kallian. "I have never visited the Dalish."

"Then may I be probing for this one moment and ask if you knew the woman Adaia?"

Leliana saw the elf stiffen. "How do you know her?"

"I might ask you the same."

"She was my mother."

A flash of recognition lit up his piercing eyes. "So it is as I suspected. Welcome, Kallian Tabris, daughter of Adaia. You have finally returned to your rightful home."

There was a stunned silence as everyone digested the implications of this statement.

"So Kallian…" started Alistair.

"Is Dalish?" asked Leliana with incredulity.

"Half Dalish, to be more precise. Your father is from the city, yes?" asked the Keeper.

Kallian nodded.

He placed a hand on the Warden's shoulder. "Your mother Adaia, left us at an early age."

"But…" said Kallian, fumbling for the words. "She never told me about this. She never had the _vallaslin_."

"She refused."

" _Refused_?"

Another wry smile twisted the man's lips and his eyes were unreadable. "Your mother… was an ever independent woman. She longed to leave this place and see the world."

"I don't understand…"

Zathrian's lips curled somewhat in displeasure. "She did not agree with our traditions and beliefs." He saw her discomfort and gave an apologetic smile. "Oh, do not misunderstand. We held her in high esteem. But she was ever restless, ever curious about our distant cousins. Adaia felt it unjust to stay here while they suffered in the outside world."

"Fire burned in her blood like the warriors of old," murmured the Keeper, eyes fixed on some image of the past. "I warned her against it, but… she would not be dissuaded." He shook his head. "Alas, I see that she has raised her child in the impoverished squalor the humans imprison you in. But you are well learned, which I am pleased with."

"She paid the Hahren to teach me."

"The Hahren?" said Zathrian. He laughed softly. "No, no, emm'asha. That was what she told you. Your mother would have passed her knowledge on to _him_ so that he could teach you."

Kallian stared. "Why did she keep this from me?"

"No doubt to protect you," said Zathrian. "As you well know, drawing attention to yourself bodes ill in the Alienage, does it not?"

"Yes…"

The Keeper regarded for a few seconds before asking: "And how is your mother?"

"She passed away," said the Warden flatly. "Years ago."

Zathrian seemed taken aback, eyes mournful. "Ir abelas. I must have opened an old wound for you. It gives me great sorrow to hear this news- she was the daughter of our esteemed warleader, your grandfather."

The Warden nodded numbly.

"I always wondered where she had learned to fight," she said. "Now I know…"

"Ah, yes," said Zathrian, nodding. "She was an excellent warrior. Skills passed down from Amharlen, I suppose."

"Well, this is an interesting twist of events," said Zevran. "Our Warden is the granddaughter of a Dalish warleader."

"Looks like you're pals with the Dalish, then," said Oghren, slapping Kallian on the back. "So, does that mean you'll help us?" he asked the Keeper.

Zathrian hesitated, his face darkening. "We would if we could, but… as of now, we face dire issues of our own."

"What do you mean?" asked Leliana. "What could be more urgent than the Blight?"

"I already sensed the corruption spreading in the south long ago. It is not news to me. I would have moved the clan north by now, had we the ability to move."

"So their first reaction is to flee from it? Curious," commented Sten quietly.

Leliana was glad Zathrian didn't hear this remark. Or perhaps he was ignoring it.

The Keeper sighed. "I imagine you are here about the treaty we signed, years ago. Unfortunately we may not live up to the promise we made. This will require some… explanation. Please, follow me," he said, gesturing to one of the tents in the distance.

They exchanged puzzled glances before following the Keeper.

It wasn't long before they stopped in their tracks again. Leliana heard the guttural snarling and screaming before she saw the elves. They were bloodied and writhing in agony. Wicked claws curved out from the nailbeds and the beginnings of grey fur coated the exposed skin. The man Zathrian was standing in front of was shuddering in a strange way, his voice more feral than the others. Kallian leaned over to see and stepped back abruptly, her expression grim.

The Keeper led them all back to his pavilion again, recounting the horrible events that had come to pass. He told them of how his clan had arrived at the forest a month ago and how they had been taken by surprise- ambushed by werewolves.

"Many of our warriors lie dying as we speak." His brows sank down heavier. "There will come a time when we must slay our brethren to prevent them from becoming the beasts themselves. We must eradicate the evil of the Blight, yes, but we are certainly in no position to uphold our obligations… I am truly sorry."

Leliana felt another blow of disappointment at this news.

"You've gotta be kidding me," said Oghren. "And I thought _we_ had shit going on in Orzammar."

"Yes, this makes everything a tad more difficult," said Alistair, shaking his head.

Everyone else except Sten looked ready to flop onto the ground.

"Is there any way we can help?" asked Kallian.

"The only thing that could help them must come from the source of the curse itself, and that… that would be no trivial task to retrieve."

Zevran chuckled humourlessly. "That would depend on how you define such a thing… we have been dealing with non trivial tasks before, no?"

Leliana nodded. "We _must_ gain the aid of the Dalish. We have to help them."

"So, it's walking on the wild side then, eh?" asked Oghren, patting his bulging belly.

"I guess…" said Kallian, a little hesitant. "Is there… anything else we need to know?" Leliana glanced at her. The elf's tone was neutral, but her eyes were fixed intensely on the elder.

 _She's suspicious,_ the bard realized.

Something in the Keeper's eyes flickered. "There is a powerful werewolf in this forest- his name is Witherfang. If he is killed and if you bring his heart to me… then perhaps I could destroy the curse. I sent hunters into the forest only a week ago, but they have not returned. I cannot risk any more of my clan."

Kallian nodded. "And you said this curse can be destroyed?"

"I cannot guarantee that this will work… but it is the only hope we have left."

It was clear there was but one choice.

"Then we will find this Witherfang for you."

Zathrian's shoulders visibly relaxed and he smiled. "Ma serannas, emm'asha. You are truly your mother's daughter. But let me warn you that the werewolves are not the only danger lurking in the forest. It has a history full of carnage and murder, you see. Where there is so much death, the Veil separating the spirit realm from our own becomes thin, allowing spirits to possess things living or dead. But if you can help, then I wish you luck."

Kallian paused, no doubt wanting to ask more questions.

"We will do our best," she said finally.

"That is all I could ask for," said the Keeper sadly. "I am sorry to impose this on you upon your arrival. I would that circumstances were different. But come, rest yourselves for the moment before leaving. I will ensure that all welcome you warmly, in memory of your mother."

"Ma serannas," said Kallian quietly.

Then Zathrian's gaze flicked to the dagger at her belt. "Might I… examine that blade?"

The elf gave it to him.

He took it with long, elegant fingers and slid the dagger out of the sheath. Sorrow misted in his light eyes. "Yes, I remember Amharlen gifting this to her. And now it has been passed to you." Zathrian returned it to her and she hung it on her belt. "Guard it well, my child."

Kallian nodded.

"But before you go," he said quickly, holding up a hand. A nearby elven man with long silver hair came and bowed. "We cannot let an esteemed daughter to leave without a bor'assan." The Keeper nodded to the man and he hurried away into the depths of a tent.

When he returned, it was with a long bow of great craftsmanship. Leliana stared at the strange design, its sleek surface and elegant curve of the wood. It was a material she had never seen before.

"Ironbark," explained the soft spoken elf, noticing her interest.

"Yes," said Zathrian, nodding. He took it from the man's hands and held it out to Kallian.

"Er…" said the Warden. "I'm not very flash with a bow. You'd best give it to Leliana."

The Keeper chuckled. "Use your sword if you must. This is a gift, emm'asha. It is your birthright."

"Well… in that case. Thank you," said the Warden, taking it.

"It is our custom to choose a name for the bow," said the weaponsmaster.

"A name?"

Kallian's dark eyes considered the weapon solemnly.

"Mien'harel," she said finally. "For the blood of my people."

The Keeper exchanged looks with the silver haired elf.

"Indeed… you have chosen well. Dareth shiral, my friends."

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"So… the daughter of a deserter comes to us in our time of need. How… heroic of you."

Kallian froze in her tracks. The elves in the area looked up at the disturbance but made no move to intervene. Leliana felt anger flare up in her.

She laid a hand on the elf's arm, stepping in front of her before Kallian could snap back a retort.

"And why does that matter?" she demanded. "This is a Grey Warden you are talking to, and she has come to aid your people. Any help is better than none, no?"

"The _right_ help is what we need," sneered the man, eyeing her distastefully. "And we don't need _your_ kind here, shem. There's enough ill fortune polluting the air."

Kallian growled and the sword was out before Leliana could stop her.

The rest of the group tensed along with their leader- they could sense a fight coming on.

"Sarel!"

They all turned to see a woman with tawny skin approaching, shaking her head in disapproval. "You are being most unkind," she said sternly. Her voice was like a whip snapping in the quiet, making the man falter. But Sarel was not easily defeated. He crossed his arms and faced her defiantly.

"Unkind? Don't talk to me about kindness, woman. Should I extend a hand of peace to a race that treats us no better than dogs? A race full of big boned barbarians that nearly destroyed our sacred traditions?"

"Would you refuse our hunters' help simply because of the hand that offered it?"

Leliana ignored his insults for Kallian's sake and spoke up, opting for a more soothing tone. "We can assure you, Sarel, our concern is for the wellbeing of your people."

The sneer on the man's face did not fade but he paused. Then: "An entire group of hunters went into the forest to do what you intend. And they have not returned… what makes you think _you_ can?"

The elven children on the ground exchanged looks of discomfort.

Sarel harrumphed and sat himself on the chair. He waved a dismissive hand at the group. "Look at these people- a deserter's daughter, three shemlen, a Qunari, a city elf, a witch, a child of the stone… you cannot expect me to give them a warm welcome."

"Shame on you, Sarel. Our Keeper has asked that we show them hospitality. What would your father say of this? Our people are injured and dying. The werewolves are eyeing our camp hungrily even as we speak. Now is not the time for petty enmity."

At the mention of his father, Sarel seemed to clam up.

"Forgive him, Grey Warden," said the woman, sighing. "He has not had a pleasant history with the humans. He has become shamelessly bitter ever since."

"Enough, woman," said Sarel. "I do not need my life's story poured out." He worked his jaw before continuing. "Shall I tell you the truth? I am afraid, Grey Warden. I am afraid for my people. And the roots of hatred can often run deep… it is difficult to forget the lessons the shemlen taught us."

"It is even more difficult when you live amongst them," commented Zevran dryly. "Trust me."

Leliana watched in worry as Kallian fixed cold eyes on the man. But then she unfolded her arms. "That is something the three of us can agree on."

The two stared at each other in silent challenge for a concerning length of time before Sarel sighed. He raised his hands up in bitter surrender. "Very well… perhaps I can make amends. Stay," he said, gesturing to the chairs around him. "While I spin a tale for the children. And then I will tell you of the forest if you so desire."

The Warden exchanged glances with the others. Alistair shrugged and Leliana gave her an encouraging nod. The group sat down on either the grass or the chairs.

"Now…" said Sarel, looking down at the children. "What say we begin with the story of the Fall of the Dales? Which of you children knows that best?"

The group of elves frowned, trying to remember. One beautiful child with fair hair responded. "I… I think I do."

"Yes? Then come, child," said Sarel, beckoning him to sit at his feet. "Oh, don't be frightened of the outsiders."

The child drew near and sat down.

"And where do you think such a tale should begin?"

"When… we were slaves?"

"Yes. Long ago, we were slaves to an empire the shemlen had built on the darkest magic. They took away our history, and our language, and left us _nothing_ ," he said, putting heavy emphasis on each word. Leliana shifted in her seat uncomfortably. "And then that empire fell and we were freed," he continued.

"Because Andraste came with her army, and Shartan joined her!" said the child eagerly.

Sarel nodded, smiling in approval. "Yes. Andraste the shemlen prophet came out of the south, and challenged the Tevinter Imperium. Our ancestor Shartan fought at her side. And when the rebellion came to an end, we were given a new homeland in the west- the Dales." He turned challenging eyes to the Warden. "Perhaps you know what happened next, Grey Warden?"

Kallian returned a steely gaze. "We began to rebuild our history and culture. We also worshipped the creators and made the Dales our home."

"And do you know what happened to the Dales?" asked Sarel.

"A war broke out," said Kallian quietly. "Because we would not worship their Maker." Leliana noticed her use of the pronoun _we_. "The human nations grew cold toward the Dales and-"

Sarel shook his head, eyes flashing. "They called us blasphemers, tyrants, and a stream of other vicious things. They were determined to hunt us down- it was a great _crusade_ ," he said mockingly.

"There have been many versions of the story," said Leliana hesitantly. "Some say we started the war, while others say the elves did."

The man turned resentful eyes on her. "We started the war, did we? How typical of a shem to suggest that. And what of you, child?" he said, turning to the young elf. "What do you think happened?"

"The shemlen wouldn't let us be," answered the boy confidently.

"Indeed. They resented us fiercely because we would not acknowledge their Maker. Because we were so _different_. They took our lands, forcing us to abandon our gods and live as beggars in shemlen cities!"

"You should have fought," rumbled Sten suddenly, making everyone jump. "You should have fought to the last of you. Better that than to submit."

"Oh? Is it not the Qunari way to force others to submit? Surely that would not be your advice to my people were they attacked by the mighty Qunari."

"That would be different. The qunari would improve your people. The humans have improved nothing."

"Perhaps. Even so, many of us did fight. We fought and we lost."

"But there were those who resisted," said Kallian, drawing the man's attention to her. "Those of us that emblazoned the symbols of the creators on their flesh and vowed to keep their ancient law alive."

"That's us! That's the Dalish!" said the child proudly.

"Yes," said Kallian, smiling slightly. "The clans chose to wander the lands, homeless, rather than be ruled by the humans. And so we continue to, until the day we have a homeland once more."

"Yes," said Sarel. "We are the Dalish. The Keepers of the lost law."

"The Walkers of the Lonely Path," said Kallian, nodding. "The Elvhenan."

Sarel regarded her seriously for a moment, as did the elven woman.

"You know the story well," said the man in grudging acknowledgement. "Adaia must have taught you."

Leliana saw Kallian nod, fingering the dagger sub consciously. For the first time, the bard truly felt the significance of this history. There had been so much bloodshed, so much hatred and loss. She understood why Kallian had been so hostile initially. Having it told to her again made her re consider her stance on the relationship between the two races.

And as she studied the Warden's face, the cat like eyes that glowed in the dark and her tapered ears… she suddenly felt a lonely distance between them. A gap that she could never cross.

Elf and human. Could she ever fully understand the fierce loyalty and love Kallian had for her people? The desolate hollowness of losing one's culture and heritage?

Sarel was speaking now, treating the Warden with considerably less antagonism. "Our legends say that before the shemlen came, the Brecilian Forest was a place of our ancestors, that predated even our oldest homeland. The people of the Imperium came here, and gave the forest its name…" Leliana listened with curiosity and growing sympathy as the man spoke. "… they found traces of elves slain or enslaved here. There were a great many battles fought here- these trees grow upon those who fell. Both elves and shemlen."

"And what about the werewolves?" asked Alistair.

"So much death in one place," said Sarel, echoing the Keeper's words. "The Veil was torn open and the spirits passed through into our world. Legend has it that one spirit took hold of the werewolf Witherfang. And thus he has spread the curse to others, and to our people."

A silence settled over the whole group as they absorbed all the information. To Kallian, it must have been like a retelling of a bedtime story. But for Leliana, it had stirred up both discomfort and sympathy towards her lover.

 _No wonder she was so withdrawn and cold…_

"And that is the end of the tale," said Sarel, his face long and weary. He stood up and seemed to battle with himself before forming the words with his lips. "Thank you for listening. I… apologize for what I said earlier. Consider it the rantings of an old, embittered man."

"Apology accepted, Sarel," said Leliana with a small smile.

"Ma serannas, Sarel," said Kallian, bowing and making a strange sign with her right hand. "No ill feelings between us?"

Sarel smiled and returned the sign. "None, Grey Warden."


	22. Chapter 21: Welcome Home Sort of

**CHAPTER 21: Welcome Home... Sort Of**

"Take that, ya nit picking nug-lickers!"

Kallian's eardrums nearly split from the racket in the dank chamber. It was chaos in there, cramped with all of them plus the guards. A man lunged at her, snarling. She evaded his sword and kicked him back, stabbing him clean in the middle. Blood gushed from his mouth and he slumped to the floor. She ducked again as another stepped in to take a swipe at her head. Kallian parried his blow and smacked the blade to the side. He blocked her next strike with his shield and tried to force her back with it. The elf raised her sword but there was no need- the man cried out, collapsing from the dagger in his chest. She gave a quick thanks to Zevran and joined Alistair in cutting the last guard down. As he gurgled and breathed his last, the sound of burning and crackling died down too.

The witch tutted. "Once again, too easy. _Completely_ unprepared."

"Better too easy than getting stabbed in the gut," said Alistair, sheathing his sword.

"How very _wise_ of you."

Kallian hardly spared the dead bodies a glance and was already moving through the door. They followed her quickly into the dark passageway. As they passed the cells, rats scurried about and despairing moans echoed everywhere. Kallian shivered as cold droplets of water hit her neck and the smell of filth reached her nostrils. One man rattled his chains and leered at her as they walked past. She ignored him and moved on to the next cell, and then the next, and then the next.

"Come on," she muttered.

They advanced further into the dungeons and she nearly missed him as they rushed by. Kallian skidded to a halt, turning around with a pang in her chest. Everyone else watched silently as the elf strode over to the lonely cell. Kallian gripped the bars tightly, her knuckles turning white. No sound came out from her mouth.

He was thin. Completely skeletal. If it weren't for his shock of red hair and pointed ears, she wouldn't have recognized him. Kallian suppressed a surge of nausea at the stench of urine, rotting food and unwashed clothes.

"Soris?" she finally choked out.

The elf stirred from his curled up position on the freezing ground. Her cousin opened his eyes, sunken and rimmed with dark- almost- purple rings. His cheekbones stood out like cliffs and his roughspun shirt hung from his emaciated frame. Soris rose slowly and walked as though he were an old man. As he came closer to the light, she noticed bloodstains on his clothes. Seeing all this made Kallian want to die, guilt writhing in her. But what hit her most was his accusing, venomous gaze.

"What in name of the forgotten gods are _you_ doing here?"

Kallian stepped back, feeling like she'd been punched in the face.

"I… I came back for you."

Soris' stony expression remained unchanged. "I'm so touched you remembered," he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "I thought perhaps you'd forgotten me."

She swallowed painfully, not knowing what to say. She couldn't open her mouth and stood there dumbly.

"Been having a good time playing Grey Warden, cousin? Well, I've been rotting here for _your_ crimes!"

"I'm sorry-"

"Well sorry doesn't quite cut it."

Kallian felt anger flare up in her. _I didn't ask for this. I didn't have the means to help you then! I've been running around the whole blasted country trying to fight this bloody war!_

Was what she wanted to say. But she gritted her teeth and took out the keys, trying them out one by one. The door creaked open when she inserted the correct key. Soris made no move to open it further. Instead, some of the iciness fell from his expression.

"Why didn't you come sooner, Kallian? I _waited_ and _waited_."

The Warden felt her chest tighten up. She didn't have an answer.

"You had the Grey Wardens on your side," continued the other elf, shaking his head. "You could have taken it to the king. I thought… she'll find a way. And then it just dragged on and on… I don't even know how long I've been down here."

"Soris," spoke up Leliana. "Please don't blame her, she has been thinking of you and Shianni constantly ever since Ostagar."

Her cousin narrowed his eyes at the bard, noticing the group for the first time. "And who are you?" But then he snorted. "Never mind. It doesn't matter." He turned to Kallian again. "I hear things from other prisoners down here- something about the king dying. Is that true?"

The Warden regarded him wearily before replying. "I'll tell you everything. But first, let's get you home."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Zevran yawned as he waited outside.

A man barked out a loud laugh, and there were several scraping sounds as chairs moved. He could even smell the smoke from their pipes escaping under the door. The assassin leaned back against the wall, listening.

"What're ye doing, standing around doin' nothin'?" grunted Oghren, coming over to join him.

"Shhh," said Zevran, putting a finger to his lips. Though he doubted they would hear anything above the din. "Do you hear that?"

The dwarf frowned. "Hear what?"

"The sound of perfection."

There was a hiss and the smoke coming through the gap under the door turned red. Laughter died away, replaced by grunts of confusion. Zevran pulled Oghren to the side just in time as the door exploded open. Guards stumbled out coughing and reeling. The assassin stabbed them rapidly with ease, wielding his daggers without thinking. Oghren harrumphed but joined him in dispatching the Tevinter guards. Amidst the smoke and confusion, the men didn't have a chance. They left some of them alive, too wounded to fight back.

"So this is it, eh?" chortled the dwarf. "What's the trick?"

Zevran shook his head. "Not a trick, my friend, but an art."

"Whatever you wanna call it."

"An assassin never reveals his secrets, Oghren."

"Didn't want to know anyway."

Zevran chuckled and knelt down to the level of one of the captives. "So. Where do you keep the other elves?"

The man glared at the elf. "I'm not telling you anything."

"I am sure you will change your mind," said Zevran. "Shall we start with the toes then, my fine dwarven friend?"

Oghren pulled out his axe. "Don't mind if I do."

The guard paled along with the other men. Some of them struggled against the ropes binding them. Zevran scraped his daggers together threateningly. "Th-they took them already," spoke up one man. "Through the back alley."

The Antivan flashed him a dazzling smile. "Ah, see? That wasn't so difficult… we promise to come back for you soon. Try to make yourselves comfortable."

Zevran and Oghren hurried back to the rest of their group, who were still trying to navigate their way through the hospice. Kallian turned to them expectantly.

"Any luck?"

"Through the back alley."

"Great. Let's move it."

Everyone rushed out and sprinted through the alley. The moment they burst through the door, Kallian lunged forward with her weight to tackle the guard. They went down with a loud crash and she thrust her blade into his throat. He choked and went silent.

Oghren swung his axe, clipping a guard's helmet. He kneed the man's crotch and sunk his weapon into the abdomen.

Flames, stone fists, shards of ice and bolts flew everywhere as Morrigan wielded her staff and the warriors engaged the men with noisy clangs of steel on steel.

Leliana flicked her knives at two men in quick succession while the rest killed the remaining soldiers. They wasted no time, moving through the next door to step outside.

"What's this? Another shipment already? We weren't-" The guard walking toward them frowned. "Wait… you're no Tevinter. Who are you supposed to be?"

"Haven't you heard? We're here to relieve you."

"No you're not. There's nobody-"

Kallian drove her sword into his jaw. The other soldiers caught wind of what was happening and unsheathed their weapons. Leliana drew her bow fluidly and took down four of them with her arrows. Zevran hurled his daggers at two. Sten smashed the last three with his fists and sword.

 _Shipment?_ Thought the assassin. _This is sounding very suspicious…_

His question was answered by the elf waiting in the final room.

"You will regret this, you know," said the woman, unperturbed by the weapons aimed at her.

"Really?" said Kallian, flicking her blade and cutting off hair. The woman flinched slightly but still glared at her.

"Believe it or not, we have been given dispensation to do our business here. The humans talk a great deal about how wrong slavery is, but isn't it funny how quickly the smell of gold overcomes such ideals?"

"Then I presume you are also here for the gold," commented Zevran.

The woman gave him a disdainful glance, which quickly slipped off when the sword tip pressed against her cheek.

"Take me to the others," growled Kallian.

"Don't fool yourself, Warden. You're no hero, you're-"

The dark haired elf yanked the sword free as the body slipped to the floor.

 _Hmm. I suppose we can do without her._

Kallian kicked the door open and they emerged in a wide room, occupied by a single man with his guards. Confusion flit across his face before being replaced by a languid smile that could compete with Zevran's.

"Ah, the Grey Warden I have heard so much about. Well met, I am Caladrius," he said, as if nothing had happened.

"Careful," the assassin whispered to Kallian. "A witch would be more trustworthy than this man."

"I heard that, elf," said Morrigan.

But he didn't need to warn her. The Warden walked down the steps toward the bald man.

"Kallian," warned Leliana, but the elf didn't hear her.

The man signalled discreetly to his guards and continued to talk. "Perhaps we can negotiate… there's no need for more bloodshed."

Kallian still didn't reply. She simply tested the blade out with her wrist threateningly.

"I have heard that you are trying to erode Loghain's support. It must be a difficult task, yes? Perhaps you could use some help."

The elf advanced, and the guards stepped in front of the mage to form a protective wall.

"Hiding behind your minions?" scoffed Kallian. "Coward. I suppose I can't expect any less from a slave trader."

Caladrius tutted. "So this is the response of a Grey Warden: to refuse an offer of peace."

And the fight began.

Kallian lunged forward so quickly the guards faltered. That was enough for her to break the barrier- they stumbled back to expose Caladrius to her attack. The mage scowled and fired a bolt at her but she rolled forward to evade it. Zevran propelled himself over the rails and landed on the ground below, rolling to break his fall. The guards charged at the group and the assassin twisted away to avoid a particularly vicious swipe. He released his daggers quickly at them like darts- two of them went down with the handles protruding from their chests. It wasn't long before it all ended.

Zevran pulled his blade out of the guard and stood to join Kallian. Caladrius cried out as his ward failed, allowing the Warden to cut his cheek. They were now at the foot of the stairs- he was planning on a quick escape, leaving his men to die. Sten took massive strides and kicked the man down, putting a boot on his back. Kallian reached his level and glared down at him in loathing.

"I surrender!" said the man, his cheek pinned to the ground. "Have mercy on me!"

"Mercy?" said Kallian with a harsh laugh. "I don't think so."

"Hear me out, dear lady!" said the mage desperately.

"There is no point in letting him live," said Sten with his emotionless voice.

"Were I to… use the life force of the remaining slaves-"

Zevran flinched as the blood splattered the floor, the walls, the steps and everyone close enough. Kallian wrenched her blade out of his back and rolled him over, taking the keys calmly.

It was over.

As they followed her through the last door, he felt a slight sense of unease at her display of brutality- it was the third time that day. Zevran found himself thinking he would not want to be the one with her sword at his throat. Not for the first time, the assassin was glad he had refused Talisan's offer.

Loyalty was not a virtue of his, as with any intelligent assassin, but he was certain he was on the right side.

There was a loud burp as Oghren took a swig of his ale.

"Sorry," he grunted.

Yes, if Zevran ever did leave the group, he would miss this smelly dwarf the most.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Everyone tried to fit into the cramped space of the dining room. Leliana took a seat next to Kallian, feeling very awkward in the small chair. Sten and Oghren chose to stand while the others sat down. Soris stood nearby with Shianni, his shoulders hunched. Leliana noticed the hostility in his demeanour had lessened, but he still eyed them warily. His wife, Valora, stood next to him with a similar expression. Shianni caught Leliana's gaze and gave her an apologetic smile. There was a long pause before Kallian's father broke it with a cough.

"Well," he said with an awkward smile. "I must say it has been a frightening experience for everyone in the Alienage. Thank you all for helping us."

"We did what we had to, sir," said Alistair.

Wynne nodded. "Kallian has been exceptional this past year. We could not ask for a better leader- we are simply returning the favour."

Cyrion smiled widely, pleased with being addressed as 'sir'. "Still, I thank you. And I welcome you all to our home. It's not much, but we will try to provide whatever we can."

Zevran chuckled. "Compared to the outdoors, your home will be a mansion."

At this, Cyrion's smile turned to a worrying frown. "You must have been travelling far… may I ask what you have been doing?"

"Er…" Kallian looked to Wynne for help.

The old mage gave her father a reassuring smile. "Oh, I'm sure you've heard of what Grey Wardens do. Protecting villages from enemies, keeping the peace, helping poor old folk like me."

Cyrion eyed her staff, his gaze lingering on the orb at the top.

"And we met the Arl of Redcliffe too, didn't we?"

Kallian nodded.

"He was a lovely man, very keen to help us against the Darkspawn," said Wynne with another smile.

"Yes, nothing to worry about," added Alistair helpfully.

"I see…" said Cyrion, looking dubious.

Oghren grunted. "If ya call-"

Zevran laughed loudly over his dwarven friend. "I am sure that, after all this, you must want time with your family, Kallian."

"Oh, yes, of course," said Alistair. "We'll just um…" He looked around for any other rooms that would fit them. "Wait outside then."

"You can wait in my room, or Soris'," offered Shianni, though she regarded Sten sceptically. "Be careful not to bang your head on the doorframe."

Everyone got up to leave the dining room. Leliana tried to stand as well, but Kallian put a hand on her arm. The bard looked down at her quizzically. Soris' eyes flashed at the gesture and Leliana sat down uncomfortably. Cyrion examined her curiously but made no comment. Instead, he smiled at her kindly. Then he turned to Kallian with a guilty expression.

"I am sorry about your mother, my dear."

The Warden shrugged. "I guess you had no choice," she said, though there was a hint of resentment in her voice.

"We didn't know either," said Shianni.

"It was a promise I was to bring to the grave. Your mother was adamant that you lead as normal a life as possible. But I am sorry you had to hear it from another," explained Cyrion.

His daughter nodded slowly.

"At least we're all still here, thanks to you," said Shianni, smiling.

"And to your friend here also," added Cyrion.

Kallian cleared her throat uncomfortably. "Speaking of which… father, Soris, Shianni, Valora… this is Leliana."

Leliana straightened up and smiled at them. Shianni and her uncle returned the smile but Soris eyed her suspiciously.

"That's a lovely name," said Shianni.

"Thank you," replied the sister, relaxing somewhat.

"No, thank _you_ ," said Cyrion. "For keeping our daughter safe and bringing her back to us."

Kallian took a deep breath and exchanged glances with her, the bard's own worry reflected in her eyes.

"She's a close friend," started the elf uncomfortably. "I let her stay here because-"

"You're together, aren't you?" cut in a sharp voice.

Everyone stared at Soris, then Shianni, Cyrion and Valora turned to the pair.

"Together, as in…?" Valora let the question hang in the air.

"Lovers. Mates. Whatever you want to call it," said Soris acidly.

The bard felt an awful feeling of dread. Kallian had warned her beforehand of what might happen, but she hadn't counted on such animosity.

Cyrion gaped openly at them while Shianni regarded them sympathetically. Valora simply stared as though Kallian had sprouted horns.

There was an excruciatingly long silence as they all tried to digest this. Cyrion's face became grave and seemed to age further.

"So you…well I…" began the older man. "Is this true?"

Leliana felt the weight of their gazes with an intense discomfort. Kallian squeezed her hand under the table. "Yes."

Her father worked his jaw before finding the words again. "Then… I'm confused," he said, shaking his head. "Why did you agree to marry Nelaros?"

Leliana glanced at Kallian, who grimaced. "Did I have a choice?"

Cyrion looked at his daughter sadly. "There is always a choice. If I had known… I would never have forced you into marriage."

The Warden stared at him. "Really?"

"Of course," he said. The man looked genuinely hurt. "I may not like this… situation, but I would not condemn you to such a life."

"Maker," breathed Kallian, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I had no idea."

"You were so confident about the marriage. I was completely convinced."

His daughter smiled bitterly. "Mother had me promise."

"Adaia was thinking of safety and security… as all mothers do."

"And she was right to," interrupted Soris suddenly, glaring at Kallian. "I didn't know you would stoop this low, cousin."

Kallian's hand tensed under Leliana's.

"What did you say?" she growled, standing up.

"When you told us years ago, I thought- she'll get over it. She'll get married. That's the path we all take. I never imagined you would _actually_ do this."

"Please, Kallian," said Cyrion, putting a hand on his daughter's arm. "Sit down. Soris, put a rein on that tongue."

"Why should I? I've been rotting in that cell for a year while our dear cousin has been doing Maker knows what with a woman. And a _shem_ , no less. It's disgusting!"

"Soris!" said Shianni, horrified.

Kallian grabbed the front of his shirt. "You bastard!"

Alarmed, Leliana tried to pull her lover back but she was too strong. Soris stood up and threw a punch at Kallian. The Warden returned the blow and soon they were wrestling with each other while the women shouted. There were footsteps as the others came into the room. Sten pried the two apart.

"What in Andraste is going on here?" said Alistair.

"Thundering stones!" said Oghren. "Is this how elves throw a welcome party?"

"You're doing the wrong thing, cousin," said Soris, wiping the blood from his face. "No Alienage will take you back."

"I'm not coming back," snarled Kallian.

"Both of you, be quiet!" snapped Cyrion. The two glared at each other but stopped hurling insults. "Now sit down."

Leliana signalled with her eyes at Alistair. He nodded and led the others back upstairs.

"Frankly, I don't know what to think," said Cyrion, rubbing his temples. "Soris has spoken badly... but you will understand, Kallian, that I cannot give my approval."

Leliana's heart sank unpleasantly. The Warden glared stonily at the table.

"But neither can I force my opinion on you. I can only extend to you a hand of welcome. Nothing more."

Soris bristled. "Then you're letting her go?"

"Yes."

The elf made a noise of disbelief.

"Leave her be, Soris," said Shianni, glaring at him. "You know what she's been through."

"Can you imagine what they'll say of her if they find out?"

"And you care about what they say?"

Cyrion banged a hand on the table. "That is the responsibility she must bear. It's not our place to intervene." He turned tired brown eyes to his daughter. "Besides, you are of age now. And who knows what you will face in the future. I am not fooled- I know this is a dangerous road you must walk. If this is what makes you happy… who am I to persuade you otherwise?"

"Do you remember when mother was imprisoned?"

Kallian's father blinked at the non sequitur. "I do. Why?"

"Leliana was the one who saved her."

Everyone stared.

Kallian stood up abruptly and took Leliana's hand. "Come on," she said emotionlessly. "It's time to leave."

The bard walked out with her, casting a helpless glance over her shoulder. She had very much looked forward to meeting Kallian's family. But she had also known the likely result of such a reunion. And it had ended terribly.

The door closed and rattled the weak structures as they stepped out with heavy hearts and feet. Leliana glanced at Kallian, who looked utterly dejected. A surge of sympathy rose in the bard's chest- she hugged her.

"Sorry about that," mumbled the elf.

"You don't need to apologize," said Leliana. "We expected this, no?"

"I didn't think Soris would…"

"Shh. Don't think about it," said the sister, rubbing the elf's arm. "Shianni was very nice. And your father was much better than you described him."

The door creaked open behind them again and they turned to see Shianni. She sighed and came over to them.

"I am so sorry about my cousin," she said, putting a hand on her forehead. "This wasn't a great ending, I know."

"Understatement of the day," answered Kallian with a snort.

"But you know you're always welcome here, don't you? Both of you."

Leliana nodded sadly. "Thank you."

Shianni smiled. "And I don't have a problem with you two. You look cute together."

This forced a weak smile out of Kallian.

"Well… I guess this is it, huh?" said the red haired elf. "You're going to leave now and do all that heroic stuff."

"Yeah…"

Shianni pulled her cousin into a hug and wiped the moisture from her eyes. "Be careful, cousin. I don't want to lose you too."

"We'll see each other again."

"I'll talk some sense into Soris... he's just upset. Living in that dungeon hasn't been good for him. And you know how much he looks up to you."

Kallian shrugged. "He feels betrayed. I get it."

"He's _scared,_ " said Shianni, shaking her head. "He knows the stories about... about..."

Kallian nodded, too depressed to reply.

The elf hugged Leliana as well, giving her a grateful smile. "You'll make sure she doesn't do something brash, won't you? She can be a bit hot-headed sometimes."

Leliana laughed. "Don't worry. She will be safe with me."

Kallian rolled her eyes. "I'm right here, you know."

The three smiled but none of them could bring themselves to laugh. They all knew promises were no use, especially during this time of war. But it was encouraging to know that one family member, at least, was happy for them.


	23. Chapter 22: Written in the Stars

**CHAPTER 22: Written in the Stars**

The sprawling city of Denerim was a reflection of the night sky. But instead of the silver stars, the lights burned a vigilant orange. The memory of the dream flashed in her mind- the thousands of flaming torches in the canyon and the stamping of feet as the army marched. And above all, the glass shattering roar of the Archdemon. Kallian watched the city without really seeing. She stood on the walkway knowing that time was running out. And only time would tell if all their efforts had amounted to anything.

"It's a beautiful city, isn't it?" commented Alistair softly, coming to join her.

 _Not for long_ , said a voice in the corner of Kallian's mind.

But she nodded.

"I never wanted to live in such a populated place," continued the new king. "Too many eyes, too much gossip. It didn't sound like the ideal home for a bastard."

"We'll make it through this, Alistair."

"Was it that obvious?" asked the other Warden, chuckling. "I am afraid… I suppose. But really, I am considering staying here, you know."

Kallian smiled slightly. "That's good, because you don't really have a choice in the matter."

He sighed. "If only I'd refused the Arl. As it is… I can never say no."

"You were always a pushover."

"Nice would be a better word, thank you."

The elf chuckled.

"Anyway, I'm starting to like the sound of ruling over everyone. Telling people what to do, and such. Ooh! And maybe I can pay that witch back for how horribly she's treated me!"

"You two still fighting?" tutted Kallian. "In my opinion, you should watch that Anora more closely."

"Hmm… I don't know. Morrigan might be a more formidable foe."

The Warden crossed her arms against the chill. "Loghain might be dead but his daughter is still alive, and she's a cunning one."

"If you're thinking of suggesting marriage again…"

Kallian shook her head. "I was joking. Besides, if you married her, it would be a disaster. She would take over in an instant."

"Good to know you have confidence in me."

She grinned despite herself. "You'll do well."

A weighty silence settled over them as they gazed into the darkness. Both of them felt what was to come, and the unspoken fears that they shared. They normally joked about Alistair's kingship and bandied the word about lightly. But she knew the responsibility weighed on him heavily. The air was cold and their breaths rose up clearly even in the weak light of the torches. For a while they stared ahead, lost in their own thoughts and battling with uncertainty and anxiety. Finally, Kallian couldn't take it anymore.

"How's your cheese tasting going?"

"Eh? Oh, that…" said Alistair, laughing. "They have wonderful cheeses. Especially the blue ones! Have you tried the Stilton cheese and the Highever blue? The chefs do an amazing job…"

Kallian listened as he rambled on about the different types and what they tasted good with and so on. She made an effort to match his enthusiasm but in the end, just listened. His youthful energy helped her to temporarily forget everything that was shadowing their future.

 _After all,_ she thought. _I can't always have this gloom hanging over my life._

Ever since leaving the Alienage, Kallian had sunk into a depressive state that she couldn't quite shake off. The others did their best to cheer her up, but things like that couldn't be forgotten. Her father had responded better than she expected. But Soris was another story. He'd always been there for her. They did everything together since they were young. His rejection hit her like a boulder. She just couldn't believe it.

There was a creak as the door opened behind them.

"What are you two doing out in the cold?"

Kallian's heart jumped in recognition, as it always did.

"Taking in the view, talking about cheeses… you know, normal things," said Alistair cheerfully.

"About _cheeses_?" asked the bard, chuckling.

She came over to lace her arm through the elf's.

"Oh, yes. Did you know there are over seven hundred different cheeses in Ferelden? There's even one you can use as a shield…"

Kallian exchanged a smirk with Leliana as Alistair started his lecture again. The three spent some time chatting and joking before the other Warden left them, with the excuse that he wanted to play with Talon. With some guilt, Kallian knew the real reason he did, but nodded anyway.

He walked away, leaving the two to enjoy their time together.

Both of them gazed out at the city. There wasn't really much to see- neither of them could make out the outlines of buildings. There was only the pitch black of night and the flickering torchlights.

Kallian pulled the bard closer to her, putting an arm around her waist. The woman leaned against her and the contact warmed Kallian down to her feet. Only her face remained exposed to the cold wind. She closed her eyes in contentment. There was something inexplicably comforting about holding Leliana this way, gazing into the night. She knew the Darkspawn were out there waiting for them, marching in endless hordes toward the city. Thoughts of the last battle haunted her dreams, as did the draconic form of the Archdemon.

But in this moment she was warded by some indecipherable peace. At the same time, a stab of hollowness mingled with the sensation. She saw her mother's hand drop from hers limply all those years ago. She couldn't shake off the odd feeling of departure.

Kallian breathed in the floral scent deeply, inscribing it in her mind.

"Leliana," she said.

"Yes, Kallian?"

"Tell me the story again. Alindra and her soldier."

The bard laughed softly. "Of course." She paused to gather her thoughts before starting. "A long time ago, there lived a fair maiden called Alindra…"

Kallian listened with her eyes closed, imagining the maiden.

"One day, Alindra was sitting by the window in her father's castle, singing and dreaming… when her lovely voice caught the attention of a young soldier. Entranced by her voice, he drew near to Alindra's window…"

The lilting voice reverberated in her mind and meandered into her heart, dulling the ache of loss and disappointment like nothing else could.

"As their eyes met, he fell in love with her and she with him. When Alindra told her father about the man she had chosen, he was furious…So earnest was her plea that the gods themselves were moved, lifting her high into the heavens, where she became a star."

Kallian half listened, nearly drifting off into sleep. Leliana felt her sag a little against her and turned around. She brushed Kallian's hair away with soft fingers.

The elf jumped, eyes opening blearily.

"Oh, sorry," she said. "Did you finish the story?"

"Yes," said the sister, laughing. "If I knew you would fall asleep, I would have just piggybacked you."

Kallian snorted. "I'm not a baby."

"Shall I sing you a lullaby?" the bard teased.

The elf narrowed her eyes at the woman. "…"

Leliana smiled and kissed her lips lightly. "No, truly. I will sing you something." A thoughtfulness settled in her eyes. "I was just thinking about the elves… what happened to your people. And I was reminded of a song sung to me, many years ago. It was… when my mother died, and this wise elven woman comforted me and told me not to fear death, or hate it. That death is just another beginning. One day we must all shed our earthly bodies to allow our spirits to fly free."

Kallian nodded.

"Then… will you sing it to me?"

"Only if you don't sleep."

The Warden laughed.

Leliana's blue eyes sparkled in the firelight like gemstones as she gazed at the elf. She opened her mouth and sang to her a heart wrenching song. It was in elvish, and Kallian could understand the meaning, the _history_ behind each word- something outsiders would never comprehend. She had the distant feeling she had it sung to her before, but it must have been so long ago she wasn't sure.

And as the melody enveloped her, Kallian felt all the muscles in her body uncoil and relax.

 _In uthenera na revas… vir samahl la numin. Vir 'lath sa'vunin._

Whatever the future would hold for them, it was moments like these that made it worth living. Despite everything that happened or could happen.

"Thank you," she murmured, eyes still closed.

"You are welcome," replied Leliana, taking her hands.

Kallian opened her eyes and grinned, taking one slender hand. She pressed her lips against the smooth skin. She wished time would stop for them and prolong this moment- stretch it so far it would be forever.

 _I love you._

And when she lifted her eyes to the stars, she had the overwhelming urge to cement their relationship in some way- something lasting beyond the ravages of time.

She remembered the sister's words that night: _"Does such a love exist? Can it exist?"_

"Leliana, pick out a constellation."

The bard blinked. "A constellation?"

"It can be ours- you and me. Like Alindra and her soldier. What do you say?"

Leliana chuckled but the look in her eyes mirrored what Kallian was feeling. "Alright… let's do that." She turned to the sky, scanning it. "Hmm… what about… that one?"

Kallian followed her gaze to a cluster of stars to the south. It could be her imagination, but she thought it looked a bit like a flower. She grinned.

"Typical."

"But why suddenly…?"

"Because I want our love to never end," she answered before she could change her mind. It was probably the cheesiest thing she'd ever said to the bard, but she didn't regret it.

They stood there, leaning against the parapet and smiling at each other like fools.

Leliana's eyes softened and she leaned in to kiss the elf. Kallian deepened it, running her fingers through silky hair to hold the woman's head. Warmth seeped into her body, dispelling the chill of the night air as they held each other.

Life was full of uncertainties. She didn't know if she would make it through this war. Or any of them. Her chest constricted at the thought of losing Leliana especially. She wanted to shake her fist at the world, wanted to shout that it was unfair, that it wasn't right. Kallian hated being on the edge of uncertainty- she liked to plan and estimate the chances of success. But after all the crazy quests, she knew this was unrealistic. There was only one thing she could be sure of: love. And really... that was all that mattered.


	24. Chapter 23: The Price of Duty

**CHAPTER 23: The Price of Duty**

The fire on the hearth crackled and sparked when she tossed the wood in. Black coals burned red on the pile. They burned like the reptilian eyes in her dreams. Kallian watched the flames lick the crumbling wood and double in size, fed to the full. She wondered how many men it would take to fill the belly of their enemy tomorrow. The elf threw another one in. And another… to push Alistair's voice out of her mind. His initial anger, then his gradual despair, and finally… the pleading. She couldn't quite escape it. Kallian snapped the last piece on her thigh and dropped it into the hissing fire.

 _Damn you,_ she thought, bracing herself with a hand against the wall. _Damn you._

Kallian closed her eyes tightly, trying to fight against the memory. She couldn't afford to feel and let her resolve waver. Not right now- not till it was all over. In fact, not ever again.

" _Please, Kallian!"_

She wished she could block her ears- but doing so would achieve nothing. The voices were in her mind.

" _I could do it, I can! It should be me!"_

Kallian shook her head, biting her tongue.

" _I would make a terrible king anyway. It was an absurd idea from the start!"_

The elf choked out a laugh. _Terrible king or not, you'd be alive you fool._

" _Damn it, Kallian! You can't do this!"_

 _By this time, Alistair was visibly crying and kneeling on the ground. But Kallian didn't say a word. She stared numbly out the window. Riordan slowly came over and placed a hand on Alistair's shoulder._

" _She has chosen her path, boy. You cannot change it."_

 _Alistair shrugged it off, standing up and eyes flashing. "By drawing lots?" he demanded angrily. "It's a joke!" He grabbed Kallian by the shoulders and shook her. "Listen to me, Kallian! You're throwing your life away for me. It's not worth a penny. It's certainly not worth your life!"_

 _The elf flung his hand away coldly. "It was never meant for anything else. I know that now."_

" _Don't be a hero," he said desperately. "If you die… if you die, I'll never be able to forgive myself."_

 _Kallian remained silent, afraid that a single word would shatter her mask._

 _Alistair floundered about helplessly, pacing the room while Riordan watched in sympathy._

" _No, no, no…" he muttered, taking her shoulders again. "You're doing the wrong thing. You're… think of what's waiting at the end. Think of Leliana!"_

 _He had come close. Very close to changing her decision. Kallian bit the insides of her cheeks until it bled. A wave of emotion surged up, threatening to breach the wall that contained it. But it was too late. She knew it had to be done. She just knew it._

"Yes," she said out loud, needing some audible reassurance… a confirmation that she had chosen right. "It has to be done."

There was a sharp rap on the door.

"Enter."

A rather haunting shadow moved across the wall, expanding and elongating to twice the actual size. Kallian turned to face the witch.

"So you have returned."

Simple statements. Simple answers. Kallian always liked that about her. She nodded.

"It is done."

The elf moved to lift the heavy tome off the table. She handed it to Morrigan's waiting hands. The witch received it almost reverently, dusting the leather cover of the Grimoire with her hand.

She shook her head in amazement for the first time. Her golden eyes were oddly vulnerable. "I barely dared hope 'twas even possible… and my mother?"

"Dead."

"Oh, she will return," said Morrigan, expression darkening. "Believe me. Flemeth is not defeated so easily… but for now, I am safe."

A silence ensued as Morrigan stared down at the book with a brooding gaze. Kallian waited patiently.

"Thank you… for this," said Morrigan, voice uncharacteristically emotional. "No one has ever… thank you."

"You're welcome."

The witch stood there a bit awkwardly, not knowing how to proceed.

"You know you can always rely on me," said the elf seriously. "It's what friends are for, isn't it?"

She fixed Kallian with a rather suspicious gaze, as if trying to figure her out. But then she relented and the intimidating light in her eyes was gone. "Tis. I… I must admit I have been impressed by your leadership thus far. It has not been an easy journey. And contrary to what you may think, I have noticed that you have been… most accepting of my views. I thought the Chantry girl would have you converted to a blubbering idiot like that fool of a king. But… it seems I was wrong."

"Your views are your own. You've had a different upbringing, different experiences. What would I achieve by criticizing that?"

Morrigan gave her a rare smile. "Wise words," she said wryly. "For that you have my thanks."

Then the witch seemed to regain control of herself and the superior demeanour returned. She lifted her chin. "Well then, we are hopefully free of any further pressing obligations involving my protection. Let us return to the matter at hand, shall we?"

"The Blight," said Kallian, feeling a heaviness press down on her.

Something flickered in the witch's golden eyes. "Yes. I presume that Warden gave you the news?"

"What news?" Kallian asked sharply.

"I am certain you know precisely what news I mean."

The Warden's eyes flicked to the open door and she strode over to shut it. Kallian rounded on her with narrowed eyes.

"How do you know about this? Only Alistair and I were there."

The witch crossed her arms, an amused look on her face. "I know a great many things. How I know is not quite as important as what I am offering you, however."

Kallian mirrored her, crossing her arms and waiting for the answer.  
Morrigan turned to face the fire, which lit her features up but also deepened the shadows under the sharp contours of her bones. It occurred to Kallian for the first time that the witch was much older than she appeared.

"I offer you a way out," said Morrigan. "A way out for all the Grey Wardens- that there need be no sacrifice."

There was an empty silence as this vaguely registered in Kallian's brain. The Warden burst out laughing, making Morrigan's eye twitch.

"Is this a joke?"

"Do I seem the sort to jest at a time like this?"

"… No."

"Then listen to me," hissed the witch.

Kallian shook her head. "I don't see how it's possible."

"A ritual," said the witch, ignoring her. "Performed on the eve of battle, in the dark of night."

The Warden frowned, interested but suspicious. "What ritual?" she asked carefully. "If there's anything I've learned in this life, it's that nothing comes without a price."

"Perhaps. But that price need not be so unbearable, especially if there is much to be gained. All I ask is that you listen to what I have to offer, nothing more."

"Very well."

The witch went over to the sofa and looked up at her. "What I propose is this: let Alistair lay with me tonight. And a child will be conceived."

 _What?!_

"The child will bear the taint, and when the Archdemon is slain, its essence will seek the child's like a beacon. At this early stage, the child can absorb that essence without perishing. The Archdemon is still destroyed, with no Grey Warden dying in the process."

Morrigan sat there waiting for her response, an infuriatingly smug expression on her face. Up until now, Kallian had had some hope that the witch would offer something that made sense.

"This is insanity," said the Warden in disgust. "You would let the soul of an Old God into a _child_?"

The smugness dissipated and the witch frowned. "I had not expected you to oppose such a proposal. Perhaps I was wrong and the Chantry girl has indeed won you over to her foolish ideals."

Kallian shook her head firmly. "I won't allow this. I can't," she said, turning her back on the witch.

"Do not let your foolish pride condemn you!" snapped Morrigan. "No Grey Warden asked for the sacrifice that is now demanded of them, and I offer all of you a way out. Will you not reconsider?"

The Warden stared at her, feeling like the air was compressing her from all sides.

 _She's being serious. She's really being serious…_

"And what then? What happens after the child absorbs the soul?"

"You must allow me to walk away… and you do not follow me. Ever. The child will be mine to raise as I wish."

Kallian laughed aloud. "Morrigan… you can't be serious! And what will you do with the child?"

"That is my concern and not yours."

"Not my concern?" asked the elf incredulously. "How can this not be my concern?"

"You must trust me to do what is best."

The Warden stood there, covering her face with her hands. "This is not an option. The price is too great," she said after a while.

Morrigan's face hardened and she stood to glare at Kallian. "Do not throw away your life on the principle of some heroic ideal or righteous behaviour. Think carefully about this: is it really necessary? Or, if you would rather, consider Leliana. What do you think she would advise, if she knew the life of her beloved was at risk? I think you know."

At the mention of the bard, Kallian faltered. It was tempting… so very tempting. They had been through so much together, so much! Wading through _every single blasted_ quest to get here. At some point, she knew the future could bring death for them. She knew… but she had hoped. And then when Riordan had dropped the truth to her- she realized she never really had a choice. There had never been a future for the two of them.

But here was Morrigan, offering her a way to survive. A damn insane solution, but a solution all the same.

Yes… after all they had been through. She couldn't let it end like this.

She remembered making those blue eyes dance. Her laughter, her smile, Leliana saying she was happy… After Marjolaine, Leliana deserved better than this.

" _You are a Grey Warden. You have responsibilities that supersede your personal desires."_

Kallian closed her eyes in pain. Wynne's words resonated in her mind again, as they had been ever since that day. They dogged her footsteps and reminded her with every action, every decision she made.

" _Love is ultimately selfish. It demands that one be devoted to a single person... to the exclusion of all else."_

 _I am a Grey Warden._

Could she live with the guilt? She didn't believe the witch inherently evil, but how could she deal with the repercussions? There would be- there was no doubt about this.

 _What do you think she would advise?_

Kallian knew what Leliana would say. She had seen what the sister was like back at castle Redcliffe, confronting Connor. The woman would protect lives with all her heart. She would protect the life of an innocent child.

 _I am a Grey Warden._

"No," she said quietly. "I know what Leliana would say- and it will be beyond what you can comprehend. She would say it was wrong, and she would never allow a child to be used like that. I would rather die with her approval than live knowing that I am deceiving her."

Her friend made a noise of impatience. "You need not deceive her your whole life."

The elf shook her head. "I can't tell her the truth."

"Then you are a fool!" spat Morrigan. "Die, if you feel it is worthwhile. I care not."

Kallian nodded. "I do know it's worthwhile. Not only will I be saving her, I'll be saving all of you."

The witch whirled on her, face twitching. "You are right. I do not comprehend your logic. But… as you said, we are different, you and I." She sighed. "Fare you well, then. Should you live past the morrow, I trust it will only be with regret."

Morrigan swept past her out of the room and shut the door with a boom.

The room felt emptier than it was as Kallian stood there, alone. She walked over slowly to the door, dragging her feet. She bolted the lock and leaned her back against it, closing her eyes. Only when the footsteps faded completely did she let it go.

All that she'd been suppressing came crashing through the barrier. Kallian clamped a hand on her mouth as the sobs welled up. The tears streamed down and ran over her fingers, dripping to the ground. Kallian's back slid down the door to the ground as she wept. She cried even harder than when her mother died. Or when Shianni had been raped, or when Soris was imprisoned and she alone escaped the Alienage.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Kallian?"

The knocking started again.

"Kallian, I know you're in there."

Kallian went over to open it before Leliana could knock any more.

"Maker's breath," said the elf, forcing a smile. "I was getting dressed."

The bard raised an eyebrow. "For this long?"

"And… I was thinking."

"Oh?" asked the sister, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her. "Of what?"

"Of things."

Leliana smiled a little, touching the elf's cheek. "Then we shall talk of these 'things'," she said, seating herself on the edge of Kallian's bed. The bard patted the spot next to her and the elf sat down. "Is it the battle tomorrow?" she asked softly.

"That's one of them."

"We will make it through," said the bard, taking her hand. "We will win."

 _Maker, I don't know if I can do this…_

Kallian nodded. "We will," she said, but with a tinge of doubt in her voice.

Leliana swept aside the elf's bangs fondly. "Kallian… do you remember when I told you about my vision?"

"I remember."

"Do you remember what you said to me that night?"

Kallian frowned, thinking. "No… what did I say?"

The bard smiled. "You told me: believe what feels right to you. You know what you believe in, and that is enough."

"Oh… that," said the elf, half chuckling.

"So take your own advice and believe," said Leliana. Then she paused, studying the Warden's face. "Kallian… you have led us through so much, we have come so far. There is but one more fight left. And I know you will make us proud. I am _already_ proud of you."

A weak smile tugged at Kallian's lips. "Thank you."

"Who would have thought that young, cold and vengeful elf would become a great hero of Ferelden?" said the bard, placing a hand on her cheek.

"I'm not a hero yet."

"No? From the smallest act to the greatest, you have always been a hero. You saved Shianni and the bridesmaids. You freed Sten from the cage. You led us through all the quests- defending Redcliffe, saving Connor, finding Branka, winning the Proving, saving the Dalish, defeating Ser Cauthrien…"

"You say that as if I did it all. We did it together. All of us."

"But a team cannot operate as a scattered entity. It must be united against its foes. And you did that for us, my love."

"It was my duty."

Leliana laughed at that. "Oh, you are silly. Silly and stubborn as an ox. Would it hurt to credit yourself for once?"

"I have to be vigilant. I have to be ready."

"Sometimes… you are allowed to look back and be grateful for what you have accomplished. For what you have."

Kallian didn't reply at once.

"You know, I have never regretted leaving Orlais. I do not regret any of the pain, the anger, the loneliness, because it brought me to you," said the bard, making the elf's throat constrict.

"I'm… glad to hear that," said Kallian quietly, feeling worse and worse by the second.

"I'm so happy, Kallian," continued the bard, smiling broadly. "Even though the battle is at our doorstep and there are thousands of Darkspawn out there. I am happy."

Kallian nodded, swallowing. It was like swallowing shards of glass.

"I have been thinking," said Leliana. "About what happened at the Alienage… when this is all over-"

"Wait, Leliana," Kallian forestalled her, unable to keep it in any longer.

The bard stopped, waiting expectantly.

"I… I have something to tell you."

Again the emotions started to surface.

"Leliana…"

How to tell her? How to even begin?

"Leliana," she said again. "We found out why Grey Wardens are needed to kill the Archdemon."

"Oh?" said the bard, shifting in her position.

"When the Archdemon is killed, its essence passes to the nearest Darkspawn and it lives in that body. The Darkspawn is soulless, empty. So when it does, it still lives anew. But when a Grey… Grey Warden…" said Kallian, choking.

Leliana suddenly tensed, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. "Kallian?" she asked, a slight note of fear in her voice. "Kallian, what's the matter?"

"When a Grey Warden kills it," said Kallian, controlling herself again. "The essence is destroyed."

The bard nodded slowly. "Because you have a soul?"

"Yes," said the elf, her voice almost a whisper. "And as the essence of the Archdemon is destroyed… so is the Grey Warden."

Kallian averted her gaze and stared at the floor, still talking.

"And I volunteered to do it… should Riordan fail."

There was a stunned silence as the bard took this in. At last, the Warden turned her stiff neck to the bard. Leliana was likewise staring at the floor, eyes lifeless and unseeing. The sight scared Kallian more than any dragon or Darkspawn they had encountered. It froze her insides like the harshest winters in Denerim- and she had known many of these since childhood.

"Leliana?"

"Tell me," whispered the bard. "That you didn't."

Kallian could hardly breathe. She reached out to put her hand on the bard's. Leliana pulled it away and held both of her hands to her ears, shutting her eyes.

"It's not true, it's not true," she said fervently. "It's not true…"

"Leliana, I'm sorry…"

The woman kept shaking her head violently, blocking her ears. Kallian died a thousand times as she watched Leliana break down in front of her. She took hold of the bard's hands again and pulled them away, fighting her as she resisted.

"No, no, no!" sobbed Leliana, still shaking her head.

Kallian pulled her toward her chest, holding her tight even as the bard struggled. The elf closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, tears burning her eyelids.

 _Damn it, damn this…_

Her own body shook with emotion as she held Leliana. She buried her face in the copper hair, gritting her teeth.

"I love you," she said again and again. "I love you, I love you…"

Leliana sobbed even more violently, collapsing against Kallian. She gripped the elf's shirt with a hand as if to tear it.

"Oh, Kallian… it can't be…"

"I'm so sorry."

They held each other as if holding on to driftwood in the middle of the ocean. Kallian kissed her hair and head.

Leliana trembled in her arms and drew back. "But you might not have to," she said desperately. "If Riordan kills it, you will live."

"Leliana… I don't know what will happen tomorrow."

 _The army in the canyon… is there any hope?_

"But you can't give up hope," said Leliana, gripping her hands.

"I won't give up," said Kallian, trying to smile… but who was she kidding? Someone would die tomorrow- that was certain. "But we need to prepare ourselves for the possibilities."

The bard shook her head resolutely. "I refuse to believe that it will come to that."

"Death is just another beginning, remember? Even if death comes, we…" said Kallian, her voice breaking. "We'll live on. We'll see each other in the afterlife."

Kallian gazed at the bard's tear stained face. She held it with both hands.

"No, no, no…" whispered Leliana, closing her eyes. Fresh tears ran down her cheeks.

"Ar lath ma…" she murmured, resting her forehead on the bard's.

The Warden closed her eyes and held the woman that way for a long time, as if to stretch the time out for as long as possible. So that this moment would become forever.

 _Is there a forever in this world?_ She thought bitterly, remembering the hundreds of glassy eyes on the battlefield. Fathers, husbands, sons, wives, daughters… life was but an instant.

The room was dark save for a lone candle on the table. Outside, the city was deep in slumber, waiting for the light of dawn. Only the stars were out, silver sentinels in the night. And looking out at those constellations, Kallian drew a small measure of comfort.

Yes. This, at least, would be lasting. This, was worth dying for.


	25. Chapter 24: Din'anshiral

**CHAPTER 24: Din'anshiral**

The city was burning.

Smoke and ash filled her nostrils and obscured her vision as she swung the weapon. The handle jarred her when the blade smashed through shields. Splinters of wood flew everywhere, nicking her under the eye. There was another explosion from flaming projectiles, flinging her to the ground. Kallian's vision spun as she lay on the blood soaked earth, which shuddered and groaned like birthing pains. She looked up at the crimson sky, disoriented and winded. A flash of metal sped toward her and she rolled over- she didn't need to. Someone heaved her to her feet. She turned to her left and saw Alistair shouting something, but she couldn't hear him. The battle had begun hours ago, and her ears were numb from the constant clashing and explosions. All she could do was read his lips.

 _Focus!_

The elf twisted away just in time to avoid being skewered by a long spear. A Genlock leered at her and lunged again. Kallian cut down on the shaft and charged it. The sword penetrated armour and diseased flesh. Again and again, she stabbed and thrust, parried and disarmed. Hack and slash, hack and slash. It was a never ending cycle of killing.

For the millionth time, Kallian ducked to avoid a blade. The skull head bared its rotting teeth at her- and then it was gone. It sailed over the sea of monsters, never to be seen again.

"Forward!" bellowed Alistair, fighting to be heard above the clamour. He rent the helmet of a Hurlock in two and advanced quickly.

Kallian followed the surge in the army as they moved to obey their king. The silver sword was filthy now, covered completely in blood, gore and ashes. She wrenched it free and thumped it against the next Darkspawn. It went down with a ghastly screech and she beheaded the next.

Bodies went flying as Sten delivered brutal blows. Flames erupted and the smell of electricity hung in the air as Morrigan worked her magic.

There was a triumphant roar as hooves thundered behind them. Templars bore down on the creatures, clearing paths for the rest of them to claim.

It was a gruelling fight, but eventually the monsters dropped in numbers as waves of reinforcement arrived.

She ripped her blade out from the last one, pulling out chunks of rotting flesh with it.

Her breathing was deafening in her sensitive ears, as if she were in a cramped space. Kallian stood there panting and leaning on her sword.

"Are you alright?" asked Alistair hoarsely, coming over to join her.

"Yeah," she said, wiping the sweat off her forehead. "You look awful."

The new king didn't chuckle as he usually did. His eyes were grim with a hint of resentment. "Not much worse than you."

"The others?"

Alistair scanned around them. "They'll be here soon," he reassured her. "I saw Leliana fighting in the east."

"And the big one will be alive, mark my words," added Oghren, coming to stand with them. "Makes your flesh crawl, these Darkspawn."

"Well, brace yourself for more- it's not over yet."

"Aye, and I swear my beard will be trimmed to my chin before it is."

"Have you seen Wynne?"

"I am here," came the mage's calm voice.

The grey haired woman stood up from tending to a man's wound. Kallian's shoulders relaxed. Wynne walked to the three and sighed.

"So many lives lost," said the old woman, shaking her head. "And we have not even breached the gates."

They waited awhile for the others to find them, spending the time being examined and healed by Wynne. Morrigan arrived first, followed by Leliana, then Sten, Zevran and Riordan.

The older Warden nodded at them in approval.

"Good. You've managed to reach the gates. We're doing better than I had hoped."

"That will change quickly," said Sten grimly.

Oghren growled in frustration. "Bloody nug runners! We're outnumbered three to one!"

Wynne looked to Riordan. "What are we to do now Riordan? You have a plan, I assume?"

Riordan's brows seemed to sag. "I'm afraid the army will not last long, so we need to move quickly to reach the Archdemon." He gave Kallian a meaningful look. "I suggest taking Alistair and no more than two others with you into the city."

A strong punch from an ogre would have hurt less than those words. She'd never been anywhere without the whole team- they were her friends, her comrades. Kallian pushed down the fear.

"And… and how do I get to the Archdemon?"

"We're going to need to reach a high point in the city. I'm thinking the top of Fort Drakon."

Alistair balked. "The top of-? You want to _draw_ the dragon's attention?"

"We have no choice. But I warn you as soon as we engage the beast it will call all its generals to help it."

Kallian groaned inwardly. "We're going to be overwhelmed," she said, thinking. "We could kill them before they're summoned."

Riordan nodded. "You may wish to do that… however, you may also waste resources trying to find them. The decision is up to you."

"The generals, then," answered Kallian, drawing her sword. "I don't want our focus to be divided fighting the dragon up there. It's too risky."

The Orlesian nodded. "Then I wish you the best of luck. Now, you must choose who to take with you into the city. And quickly."

Everyone's eyes were on her now, full of a range of different emotions. Her gaze roamed them all: Alistair, Wynne, Morrigan, Sten, Oghren, Zevran, Talon and… Leliana.

"Morrigan and Zevran."

"No," said a voice, firm and determined.

"Leliana-" started Kallian, but the bard wouldn't have any of it.

She pushed past Morrigan and Oghren to face the elf. Her blue eyes were piercing and flared up like burning sapphires. "I am coming with you, whether you approve or not."

Kallian met the fierce gaze, hoping her hesitation wouldn't show.

"I need you to stay here." _To be safe. To not be there when… if…_

"The dragon will be moving a lot. You need someone skilled with the bow. And he," She gestured at the assassin. "Does not know your fighting style like I do, no? I will be of more use to you."

Kallian crossed her arms, frowning.

"I'm afraid to say she does have a point," said Zevran, earning a glare from Kallian. He shrugged.

The two lovers stared at one another- each willing the other to surrender.

Kallian felt the last of her willpower crumble as she looked into Leliana's eyes. It was futile. She averted her gaze, sighing.

"Fine." She turned to the Qunari instead. "Sten, you're in charge of the group down here."

"Very well."

Riordan watched them gravely. "Good. That will be sufficient." He regarded the two Wardens with sympathy. "Nothing has prepared you for what you are about to face, but I wish you all the best. Maker watch over you."

The elf lifted her gaze to the high stone walls and spiked tips of the gates. She saw the plumes of dark smoke twisting up to the sky and fire flickering on the ramparts. A long shadow roamed the sky in the distance, like a restless vulture circling its prey.

"And you, Riordan. Maker watch over us all."

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"Hold the door, ya coddled pups!" hollered the dwarf, waving at the loitering men. "Move it!"

The soldiers rushed to the gate and leaned their weights against it. Guttural, inhuman sounds were starting to hiss through the gaps. Oghren glimpsed a decaying hand poking through, but then it disappeared behind the door as the soldiers laboured.

"Come on, put your back into it!" he yelled, hurrying to join them. The dwarf crashed his weight into it and the remaining gap closed.

"This won't work for long," came a calm, emotionless voice.

Oghren looked up at the giant. "Ever the optimist, eh?"

"I am simply stating a fact."

"Well if yer gonna do that, you might as well help at the same time."

Sten gave him that unreadable stare. "It is pointless. We should stand ready," he said, taking up his monster of a sword.

"I think we should listen to our stoic friend," said the slippery assassin. "That door is starting to crack."

Sure enough, a jagged line was snaking its way down the thick wood.

"By the stone!" he growled. "How many of them are there?"

"Too many, my friend," said Zevran, drawing his daggers. "Prepare yourself!"

One of the men choked as a blade broke through a gap, piercing his throat. Startled shouts filled the air as the doors were flung open. Men and women fell back onto the dirt, barely having the time to grab their swords. And the Darkspawn were upon them like a black, filthy flood.

"Yarrgh!"

Oghren joined the fray and swung his axe, sending heads flying. Blood splattered everywhere, resoaking his clothes and the ground. He saw the Qunari moving swiftly for a person his size, cutting down Darkspawn like slicing through cheese. Zevran didn't disappoint either, wielding his daggers fluidly. But despite their best efforts, the nug runners were spilling in endlessly.

The dwarf kept swinging his axe, kept chopping his way through the sea to the knife-ear.

"Got any of those firebombs with you?"

Zevran took down a Hurlock emissary with some flowery move.

The assassin tossed him a strange looking flask so hot to touch that the dwarf nearly dropped it. He lobbed it at the Darkspawn streaming in, watching it explode and erupt into flames. The fire spread through the crowd rapidly, filling the air with ugly screams of the dying undead. It wasn't enough to kill them all, but it was damn good at hindering the influx of monsters.

Everyone took the opportunity and hacked them down, showering the grass with more blood. Oghren charged, yelling at the top of his lungs. With renewed strength, the small team killed the rest of the Darkspawn.

"That was a good plan," said Sten in his mechanical voice, coming to his side.

"Aye. Mother always told me it's dangerous to play with fire," replied Oghren. "I never listened."

"That was _my_ fire you were playing with," said the Antivan, smirking.

"Your fire, my fire. Same thing."

"I let you have the glory, my smelly friend."

"Bloody Antivans."

Some of the men cried out, pointing and exclaiming in fear.

"Ah, what is it now?" grumbled the dwarf, following their gazes. "By the stones!" he cursed, watching in horror.

The beast's roar dominated the air, overriding all other sounds. It screamed and thrashed about in pain as Riordan barely hung onto it. The old Warden put up a good fight, but the dragon was too strong and too thick. It was far from dead.

As for Riordan…

All of them watched as the figure hurtled to the ground while the dragon spun out of control, alighting on Fort Drakon. Oghren couldn't see it now, but its screams were enough to make any seasoned warrior wet his pants.

"And so it begins," commented the elf sadly.

"By the bones of my ancestors," muttered Oghren. "We have to fight that thing?"

"Count yourself fortunate," said Sten darkly. "We may not arrive in time to fight it at all."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The air was stifling, almost scorching the exposed skin of her neck. Blood trickled along the gaps between the flagstones from bodies strewn across the whole length of the top: Darkspawn, humans, dwarves and elves. Stones were crumbling from the structures, crashing on the steps and platform.

Kallian's heart thumped in her ears so loudly it drowned the sound out. But before long she heard it: the beating of massive, leathery wings. She paused, staring in both horror and fascination.

Powerful muscles rippled along the length of the reptilian form, ebony scales flashing in the firelight. Ruby eyes honed in on the small group menacingly. And Kallian saw her fate in the depths of its pupils.

The silver of her blade turned blood red as it reflected the expanse above.

With a raw throated warcry, she and Alistair led the final charge against the Darkspawn.

Together, the heroes, the dwarves and the Templars fought wave after wave, no longer really seeing the enemies- it was all instinct or die thinking. She was vaguely aware of screams around them as the dragon took flight. The heat was nothing like the stories, nothing like she had imagined.

It didn't touch her, and yet her flesh was almost melting near the fire.

Once they carved a path through the crowd, Kallian looked up to see the Archdemon alighting on the upper level. She sprinted to it, slipping on blood and entrails more than once.

Footsteps sounded behind her as her companions followed.

"Flank it!" she bellowed, diving and rolling to the dragon's side.

Leliana stayed afar and loosed her arrows, seeking out the vulnerable points. The Archdemon hissed and slammed its claws on the stones. Kallian regained balance and buried her blade in its underbelly. Red, hot blood gushed out onto her armour. It roared as Alistair made a similar cut.

"Back!" he yelled and the elf obeyed. Serrated claws narrowly missed her face.

There was a smattering of cracks as ice crept up the dragon's muscled legs. It roared again as it stood rooted to the ground, immobilized.

A deep rumbling came from the beast's belly as it lit up like a furnace.

"Run!"

Kallian did, jumping off the edge just in time. She hit the ground painfully, landing on her injured arm. When she got up, Morrigan was unharmed, protected by her ward as the dragon bathed her with fire. After a while the flames died away and she saw Alistair behind the dragon. He slashed at its back, painting the stones red.

Kallian rushed upstairs to join him, drawing long gashes in its underbelly. The Archdemon thrashed about, stomping around in a circle to snap at them. She and Alistair worked hard to avoid its jaws, delivering blow after blow. By this time, so many of Leliana's arrows sticking out of its hide and Morrigan's magic had dealt some damage. But it was still not dead.

That was her job. Kallian's job.

As if reading her mind, the dragon buffeted them with its wings, beating them back. It jumped into the air, albeit shakily. Kallian ran downstairs as it flew across the roof.

Then she saw where it was heading- below to safety.

 _Oh no you don't_.

"Leliana!" she hollered desperately.

Swift arrows shot past her and buried themselves in the dragon's face. Finally, one lodged in the eye.

The Archdemon screeched horribly and paused in the sky, tossing its head.

"Morrigan!"

A glowing, crackling chain appeared out of nowhere and wrapped itself around a leg. The witch heaved the dragon towards her, reeling it in like a fishing line.

The dragon resisted but it was inevitably being pulled to its enemies. It roared and flailed and bit the chains. When it did, it screamed again in agony. The dragon was weakening.

Then Kallian felt pain explode in her left chest and spun away, gasping. Her vision swam and she dropped to one knee, sweating like crazy. Leliana screamed her name in the distance while Kallian tried to breathe evenly. She gripped the shaft of the arrow and snapped it, knowing it was all she could do. Was it in her heart? Had the Darkspawn missed? She didn't know.

But she knew one thing: time was running out.

Kallian forced her eyes open and saw the dragon swiping at Alistair. With only one eye, the dragon was clumsy. Morrigan was doing her best to immobilize it but it would only be temporary. And sure enough, the dragon broke free.

It roared and smacked Alistair away with the tail.

"Alistair!" she cried weakly.

Kallian staggered up and shook her head as the world tilted.

 _I'm losing blood_ , she thought hazily.

The scene in front of her was a mess of dark smudges surrounding the form of a dragon. Kallian tried to clear her head. It was only when someone cut her under the arms that her vision sharpened. The pain made her cry out, and she swung her sword about her.

There was a confirming screech as the Darkspawn died. Kallian felt her stomach plummet to the ground: the dragon was surrounded by its minions. And her friends were overwhelmed.

Leliana cried out as the dragon clawed at her.

"No!" she growled through gritted teeth.

With another warcry, Kallian limped towards the dragon.

"Leave her, you bastard! It's you and me!"

The sound caught its attention and it turned away from Leliana.

Kallian cursed inwardly as the dizziness set in again and she took shallow breaths. In and out. In and out.

She grimaced and tried like heck not to scream as she lifted the sword. The Warden hacked her way to the dragon, felling the Darkspawn like trees. She took several more hits but didn't care. Her friends were in danger.

The air crackled again as Morrigan helped her carve another path to the Archdemon. It roared and stomped toward her. Kallian dropped and slid between its massive legs, poking up at its belly.

It all happened so fast she didn't see it coming. The elf was flung backwards by the spiked tail, crashing against the rubble. Kallian gasped, her wounds searing intensely.

She rolled over to get up and saw Alistair lying unconscious not far away.

That was enough for her to take action. With a final roar of her own, Kallian staggered toward the dragon. It lunged.

The Warden slid her sword up into the neck as the dragon sunk its claws into her breastplate. She screamed and a violent shudder racked the beast's body. It fell… time seemed to slow as it did.

Blinding white light exploded from the contact, radiating out in rippling waves. Suddenly…the energy in her body seemed to drain completely in response. A nimbus of light surrounded the dragon, gathering into a focused ray of energy that poured into Kallian at a frightening speed.

And then…

Kallian knew no more.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The light slowly faded, leaving nothing but spots of darkness in her vision and the bitter taste of ash in her mouth. Leliana stopped shielding her eyes with a hand, letting it hang limp at her side. The bow slipped from her grasp to the hard ground.

There was a shocked silence before a joyous cry went up from the surviving allies. Darkspawn shrieked and fled, some of them struck down as they passed Templars.

All of them were cheering around her but the bard didn't notice. She didn't respond when Alistair put a hand on her shoulder. She kept walking slowly, legs trembling with each step.

So this was it. The moment she had been dreading had finally come… and Leliana felt nothing. Nothing but a dead numbness in her entire body.

Beside the corpse of the dragon, a still, armoured body lay on the ground waiting for her. As she drew near, the sounds around her died down to a hushed silence. But she didn't even notice this. All she could see… all she could see was the elf with dark staring eyes.

Leliana returned the stare, gazing down at the lifeless form. The atmosphere was so hot it should have been suffocating. But her body incorrectly registered this as a blast of icy wind. She shivered.

That last involuntary movement finally allowed the reality to sink into her mind. Leliana collapsed to her knees, hands shaking uncontrollably. The bard reached out a hand to touch her lover's face. She let her hands move of their own accord, running the fingers over the lips, the nose and then the eyes. Her hands trembled at the claw marks on the breastplate. And… at last, Leliana felt a rush of feeling return to her chest. It was too much.

A gasp tore from her lips and tears burned down her cheeks, stinging as it reached the cuts on her face. Leliana shut her eyes and pulled the dead body close to her, cradling it. She brought her forehead down to the elf's, shaking. And finally, she sobbed violently and endlessly, weeping bitterly over the only true love she had, and would ever know.

 _Kallian… my Kallian…_


	26. Chapter 25: Coming Full Circle

**CHAPTER 25: Coming Full Circle**

It was a slippery, cold day. The rain had somehow made its way through the cracks down to the stony passages below.

As for the cold… every day was the same, or worse. His body should have adapted by now. But the climate on the Frostback mountains was not a force to contend with, testing even the hardiest of men. Or women. And the woman he was waiting for lived through these blasted blizzards without batting an eyelash. In fact, if Rector didn't know any better, he would say she relished it with an almost perverse enjoyment.

Rector shivered in his leather jerkin and hopped on the spot, trying to ease the stiffness in his joints. He held the torch close to him- not too close, lest it set his clothes on fire- and peered around the corner.

 _Where is she?_ He thought, desperately yearning for a warm seat by the fire in the armchair.

The constant dripping in the background, the cold and the dark unnerved him, heightening his senses uncomfortably. He shook himself, concluding that it was probably his growling stomach and the cold that was making him like this.

A few more minutes passed.

He purposely avoided looking at the dishevelled figure hunched over behind the bars in front of him. He had learned not to return the glares long ago. Just when he was about to consider going back up to take a leak, a new sound joined the drip-dripping.

Rector's ears perked up and he stood to attention as the footsteps grew louder. The pitch black depths of the passage became lighter and lighter before a ball of flame appeared. He let out a breath when he realized it wasn't a ball of flame at all, but a torch. The figure holding it approached with measured, controlled steps. Her hood cast a shadow over the contours of her face but the vivid blue of her eyes cut through it like crystals.

"A lot to do, my lady?" he asked, hoping to lighten the atmosphere. One was always treading on thin ice around this woman.

"My apologies," she said. Her voice was edged like broken glass. "There has been a complaint by the Lord Kildarn about some refugees. I had to organize the others to take care of the issue."

"Of course," said Rector, following her as she walked deeper into the dungeons.

"Any progress?" Sister Nightingale asked.

The agent shook his head, and then realized she probably couldn't see it. "No, my lady. We have tried but-"

"Did they try the fingers?"

"Yes…"

"The wrist?"

"Gone, Sister Nightingale."

There was a pause.

"Well, there's no point in doing any more." They rounded the corner and he took out the keys. Leliana fixed her eyes on the man slumped against the wall. "And the barons? Have we heard from them?"

"Er… not yet, my lady. They are still discussing the reinforcements."

"Typical."

She gestured for him to open the door. There was a rusty click as he inserted the key and turned it. He followed her in and they stood over the prisoner. The man's clothes were rags hanging off a thin frame, muscles atrophied from disuse and malnutrition. Bones were jutting out at sharp angles and he was covered in sweat and blood. Long, filthy hair covered his gaunt face and he took shallow breaths because of the pain.

Rector took one glance at the forearms, which ended in black, infected stumps.

"Do you know who I am?"

The prisoner stirred and opened his eyes weakly, but didn't reply. Leliana lowered herself down to his level. Her icy gaze would have frozen Rector on the spot- the prisoner seemed unfazed.

"We can make this much easier for you," said the Sister, her voice low and deceptively soothing. "Or it can be a _slow_ … _painful_ death."

Unexpectedly, the man's dry lips stretched into an ugly smile. Dark blood flowed from behind cracked scabs.

"Nearly had him," he rasped. "She won't be pleased."

"She?"

The man laughed unpleasantly.

"Who sent you?" demanded the Sister.

He still continued to laugh, coughing up blood at the same time.

Leliana's expression was as unreadable as stone. "A troop of our men- including the weaponsmaster- was intercepted on the road to the Hinterlands. Was that you?"

"The Inquisition is doomed," cackled the prisoner, smiling to reveal broken teeth. "You won't get nothing from me."

"Oh?" said the Sister dangerously, pressing a finger into the open wound in his chest. The man hissed and arched his back. "I have spent years. _Years_ hunting down people like you and losing people I cared about. Do you know what I do with people like you?"

"It doesn't matter," said the prisoner. "He'll come for you."

"Who? _Who's_ coming?" demanded Leliana, digging her finger deeper into the weeping gash.

The man laughed and cried out at the same time.

Tears spilled down his cheeks at the pain but he continued to laugh. "He will come and you will bow to him. And he will reward me for my devotion."

Rector stood there grimly as Leliana took her hand away from the wound. The man coughed and doubled over gasping. Sister Nightingale rose to her feet in one fluid motion and glared down at him in disgust.

"You won't get any more from him," she said, contempt in every syllable. "Lock the door."

She didn't wait for an answer and swept out of the cell. Her agent did as she commanded, hurrying to follow her through the gloomy dungeon.

"What should I tell the jailers, my lady?"

"Leave him. Let him waste away in his cell."

At that moment, the prisoner's manic laughs echoed off the walls to meet them. The sound was chilling, and Rector knew it would stay with him in his dreams.

"No. I've changed my mind," said the Sister, stopping abruptly. "Kill him."

She strode off into the darkness, her back intimidatingly straight and cold. Rector stood there for a long while staring at the stairs, accompanied only by the sounds of insanity.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Leliana stepped out of the bathing chamber, more relaxed than before. But more importantly, she was clean- free of the blood and filth of the dungeons. The spymaster walked to the mirror and lowered herself in the chair, taking a look at her reflection. What she saw brought a bitter twist to her lips.

The face staring back was a shadow of the girl from a decade ago. Her features were much the same, but the characteristic open smile and the bright life in her eyes were no more. Now dark lines rimmed her steely blue eyes, her lips fixed in a grim line and her cheeks gaunt with exhaustion.

She let out a heavy breath and lifted her hand to the brushes and opened the ornately decorated box. Leliana found herself staring inside it awhile before she made herself apply the base to her skin. Simple, routine things such as these held little joy for her now. She used to love the finer things in life- make up, clothes, shoes… her throat constricted at the thought.

For the thousandth time, she found herself reaching for the box tucked away under the desk. Leliana stopped her hand and retracted it. To distract herself, she finished applying the make-up and changed into her armour. But before leaving the room, she couldn't help gazing in the direction of the box again.

With some effort, she tore her eyes away from the desk and left the chamber. As she made her way down to the lower level, chantry sisters greeted her with bowed heads and murmurs of "Sister Nightingale" or "my lady". Leliana barely heard them and walked down to the double doors, her head quickly going through the list of tasks she needed to oversee.

The spymaster pushed the doors open and broke out into the frigid air outside. As usual, people made sure to steer clear of her, avoiding her eyes and giving a hasty dip of the head before hurrying off. Again, Leliana barely noticed.

She wasn't deaf- she knew what they whispered. The people feared her as much as they loved the Herald, and that was exactly what she intended. And speaking of the Herald, the spymaster found the man leaning against the pole of her tent.

She felt some irritation at his visit- she preferred to be alone. Maxwell Trevelyan pushed himself away from the pole and inclined his head when she approached.

"Sister Nightingale," he greeted her.

She nodded politely. "Herald, what brings you to my tent?"

"I was wondering what news you have had so far."

Leliana sighed, and came to look down at the map on the desk. "Bad news, I'm afraid. Reports of demons and Fade Rifts keep coming. The people are terrified, and it's only getting worse."

Trevelyan nodded. "Then I guess we'll have to keep working at it."

"You are the only one who has power over the Rifts. Seal them. Your legend will spread, and Thedas will learn to trust the Inquisition."

The Herald chuckled softly. "It's going to take a while, but I'll try."

"That is all we can ask of you."

"Cassandra seems to think otherwise."

It was Leliana's turn to chuckle. "Yes, she is… difficult to impress. And your situation was not quite what we expected. Give it some time- she will learn to overcome her distrust."

"I'll keep that in mind."

The spymaster bent down to examine the map, expecting him to leave. He did not. Instead, the man stood there for a while before speaking again.

"I wonder," he started. "Bards tell tales. I bet you tell some good ones."

Irritation flared up in her again and she resisted the urge to sigh. "There are plenty of tales in the library," she said curtly. "Perhaps you should look for them there."

But the Herald wasn't dissuaded.

"What did you do before you worked for the Divine?"

Leliana stiffened and studied him with a steely gaze. Trevelyan looked away uncomfortably. She knew he was only trying to be friendly, but today was a bad day to choose.

After a tense moment, she relented. "I was a bard," she said slowly, carefully. "An Orlesian spy, for many years."

The Herald seemed to regret questioning her. He looked uncertain as he continued. "And… how did you come to work for the Divine?"

"I served for a small time in a cloister. After the Blight, I was called on by Justinia to oversee her personal network."

"Which involved…?"

Maker, he was persistent! Very well, if he was going to probe her past, he was going to do it by _her_ rules.

So she answered cautiously. "A Divine always has enemies. And Justinia had more than most. I protected her." Another pang of pain at the name. "I watched, had an ear to every door. I identified threats, and I dealt with them." Too much plotting, too much bloodshed. She remembered every throat she slit, silent and clean with her knife.

"You can't have done this all on your own."

"Oh, I had help," said Leliana nonchalantly.

"From your agents?"

The spymaster raised an eyebrow, with a look that questioned his intelligence. "If I only had my agents to help me, I would be a poor Hand indeed."

Maxwell blushed slightly.

"To play the Game," she explained patiently. "You use everything and everyone around you- you waste nothing. You must be both no one and someone."

The Herald frowned. "Meaning?"

"Simple: you use your influence to keep enemies at bay. But when the time comes to strike, you hide yourself in the shadows. If you play it well, enemies can become friends… but of course, the reverse is also possible."

"So you couldn't trust anyone?"

"Trust is an illusion," she replied, smiling slightly at his expression. "I take it you have never been to Orlais?"

"I have not had the opportunity to, no…"

"Then pray that you never will," said Leliana, hoping that would end the conversation. It did not.

"You seem to know a great many people."

Leliana sighed. "I have made friends. And, on occasion, enemies. It's unavoidable."

The Herald nodded, and seemed to her convincingly innocent when he said the next statement. "I heard you met the Hero of Ferelden."

 _Merde!_ She thought, hating herself. This was exactly what she had hoped to avoid. How had she let this happen?

She fixed a calculating gaze on him, wondering at another intent underlying the question. The man averted his eyes, uncomfortable under the scrutiny.

"Perhaps that was an inappropriate question," he said quickly.

"Excuse me, Herald," said Leliana, voice strained and clipped. "I'm afraid I have much to do."

"Of course," he said, looking apologetic. "I'm sorry… I shouldn't have… I will leave you to your work."

She nodded numbly and placed both hands on the desk in front of her to brace herself. Leliana closed her eyes and tried to dispel the memories churning in her head.

 _Kallian…_

Bitterness coated her tongue as the emotions barrelled into her chest. It had been ten years. Ten years since her lover died. Ten years for Leliana to mourn for her and get over it. Why was she not over it?

Leliana laughed harshly. She had foolishly, naively believed the dream had been real- but now she had come to the bitter realization that it was something she had _wanted_ to believe. It had been no vision at all, but a dream borne of desperateness. The spymaster breathed out heavily and scanned the crowd for her agents. Now was not the time for weakness. Now was the time to focus.

She could see every one of them where she had posted them. They returned her gaze with a subtle nod of the head.

 _Good._

They couldn't afford to let another man slip past security. There were plenty of empty cells left in the dungeons, but she would rather not stain her hands with more blood.

Leliana looked down at the map. It would be weeks before her scouts returned. And even longer for those in Orlais to report back with details about the state of the Court and possible alliances.

She sighed and looked up hoping, for once, the sight of the chantry would offer some measure of comfort. That it wouldn't fill her with the feeling of betrayal and disillusionment.

What she saw instead knocked the breath out of her.

A dark skinned, unfamiliar Mother walked toward the Chantry doors. Leliana assumed this was Mother Giselle, whom she was to meet. However, her eyes were primarily drawn to the black haired person following behind her. The woman wore the uniform of a new recruit- simple armour, dark forest pants and shirt. She shrugged the strap of her bag onto her shoulder. As she did, their eyes locked. And when they locked, Leliana felt her whole body tremble.

The woman was impossibly, extraordinarily like Kallian.

Minus the ears, the taller height and the less angular bone structure and it was Kallian. Absolutely Kallian.

The newcomer didn't look away but maintained eye contact, walking toward the Chantry doors…

A laugh nearly burst out of Leliana's mouth when the woman almost banged her head against the door. Her lips twitched up briefly in an amused smile- brief because she was too shocked. Too overwhelmed by what she had seen to move her muscles.

She quickly looked down at her map, unable to calm the thoughts racing through her mind. And after a while, she returned her gaze to the Chantry. The doors were closed.

For a long while, Leliana stood there gaping at the Chantry. Then she shook herself and racked her mind rapidly. A few days ago, she had been quick to dismiss it. It had been so insignificant to her that she had been annoyed with her agent for telling her. The name… what was the name?

And then she remembered.

 _Ria Lewis._

 ** _Thank you everyone for reading and reviewing. I have to admit, this was harder to write than the other fanfic... found myself depressed a lot of the times because of it lol. But glad you enjoyed the story and hope I made up for that painful death by ending it on a more positive note :)_**


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